Avengers: The King of Hearts
by NothingSoSpecial
Summary: "There's no "I" in "team"… and that's probably for a real good reason." In the year without Thor, the remaining members of the Avengers - and the newbie - certainly had their hands full. With HYDRA looming constantly over everyone's shoulders, a loose-cannon assassin (or two) on the loose, and the team facing their own many demons, it's a wonder why the world didn't end any sooner.
1. Or Not I

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary to understand what's happening.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name **_"NothingSoSpecial"_** … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes and alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year** **before** "The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers_ _,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 3,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron,"_ **obviously. _  
_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter One: Or Not… I.**

" **Peace begins with a smile."**

– **Mother Theresa.**

 **October 19th 2014; Sunday.**

 **Stark Tower, New York City, USA.**

 **R + D: "Candyland," Floor 18 – 1:28:10 P.M.**

 **68 Days, 11 Hours, 32 Minutes, and 50 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

" **L** **et's run** **it through one more time, shall we, J.A.R.V.I.S?"**

 _Of course, sir.  
_

Tony Stark pushed himself away from the large, glass desk littered with half-empty, coffee mugs, crumpled pieces of paper, broken pens, discarded towels, crushed water bottles, and miscellaneous plates of metal everywhere, and stretched; feeling a loud, satisfying crack before standing up and picking up the small data-pad that lay, plugged in, next to the flat-screened monitor on the equally-dirty table a few steps adjacent from where he'd just been sitting; flicking through it while carrying on his conversation with the AI without missing a beat.

"All this information," He mused, aloud, without looking up, "You're _sure_ we have it all, J.A.R.V.I.S?"

 _Of course, sir._

 _"Including_ everything S.H.I.E.L.D. posted online six months ago?"

 _Yes,_ The AI assured him, without a split second's hesitation, _All additional information from the S.H.I.E.L.D. database leaked in April by former Agent Natasha Romanov has been downloaded, accounted for, updated, and added to our own archive.  
_

"I can't believe I was just _sitting_ on this for _years_ ," Stark grumbled for what had to have been the hundredth time that morning, as he threw down his data-pad in disgust and reached for a half-empty cup of lukewarm coffee, downing it before adding, "If the Mandarin, Thor, and Fury hadn't distracted me, I _swear_ I could've stopped this. God, they had a gun to the back of my head _and_ brought a guy back from the dead without me ever realizing it."

 _Technically, sir, he wasn't dead._

"Ha!" Stark snorted, humorlessly, into his coffee before standing up, plopping the now empty coffee mug back down again as he started for the glass door leading outside and pulling out his cell, "Right. And the guy's still probably responsible for half the world's assassinations. According to Cap, Kennedy and my dad were just the _tip_ of the iceberg… and _speaking_ of which, have we retrieved _that_ file from Fury yet?"

 _We have.  
_

"Crack it open and send copies to Cap, Wilson, Banner, Rhodey, and my cell."

 _Already done, sir._

"Good," Stark said, even as he put the cell to his hear, "Just keep digging through everything _else_ , then. If you find anything too juicy to wait, send it to me - and keep copies to everyone else while you're at it."

 _Yes, sir._

"Get on it without me, then. I've got a meeting in ten, topside," Stark paused with his hand on the door. He turned back, looked over the mess he'd made in the lab during the past few days, and smiled, letting his tone soften, "… And thanks, buddy. Seriously. You've been a real help through all this."

 _Of course, sir._ The AI paused, _Thank you._

As the door closed and snapped locked, all the lights went out simultaneously.

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 19th 2014; Sunday.**

 **Stark Tower, New York City, USA.**

" _ **The Loft,"**_ **Floor 30 – 2:01:19 P.M.**

 **68 Days, 10 Hours, 59 Minutes, and 31 Seconds Until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

" **Y** **ou can't keep blaming Fury for everything, Tony."**

"Sure I can," Stark retorted as he sat down on the couch, not even bothering to get off his phone as he planted his feet up on the glass coffee table. Pepper stood primly at the elevator, hands folded across her chest and a single brow raised in clear exasperation as he added, "And until he comes out of his little _hidey-hole_ and gives me the files I _know_ he's still got hidden from me somewhere, his goons aren't seeing a _single_ –"

Stark would have said more, if he hadn't been interrupted by the all-too familiar female, auto-toned voice on the other end of his cell.

 _I'm sorry,_ It began, _The person you are trying to reach is unavailable…_

"Dammit, Banner!"

Pepper's hands moved to her sides and she glared at him as Stark grimaced and sat up.

"I give him an untraceable, almost completely indestructible phone with email, Internet, and a subscription to _Times_ _Magazine_ and swear I'll only call if it's important," He complained in half-amusement, ignoring her completely as he waited for the voicemail tone, "… And he _still_ _never answers_."

"Tony –"

… _Please leave a message after the beep._

"Yo, _big mean green!_ Answer your cell once in a while, will you? _Geez_!" Tony boomed into the phone after the single-tone beep, standing up and heading out into the balcony, "Anyway, I got some headway on our special project. Plus, I sent some more of S.H.I.E.L.D's – aka HYDRA's – database to you this morning. So if you're anywhere with Internet – and you should be because your phone _comes with it_ , by the way – you really should check it out."

"Well," He let the messaging system run for a few beats before continuing, this time easing his voice a little. "That's it for the news… but I could use an update on _you,_ you know. No one's seen you since London, and we're all getting a little worried. So hook me up, will you? Can't do _everything_ myself."

He let it run a couple seconds more before hanging up.

Stark didn't even have to turn around to know Pepper would be gone by the time he went back in – off to do whatever she did as acting CEO of Stark Industries – so he stayed out on the balcony and simply leaned over the railing, staring up into the blue, cloudless sky, letting his thoughts run through the usual checklist.

First on that list, he knew, somewhere in Brooklyn - less than a mile away from where he stood as a matter of fact - he knew Cap and Sam Wilson were running around trying to track down the Winter Soldier, taking out whatever HYDRA threw their way with a vengeance. He was almost relieved, in some horrible, twisted way. Thanks to those two, Stark didn't have to waste time going after HYDRA himself. He could sit here in New York City and pick up the pieces they'd left with him.

Stark could deal with the President and Congress breathing down his neck, with General "Thunderbolt" Ross calling him up all hours of the night and threatening to shove soldiers through his front door to find – and arrest – him and Banner (who'd been missing for months now), and even Justin Hammer in all his stupid, blundering glory, all in peace.

Peace.

And not to mention, he could deal with not knowing where Natasha, Barton, Fury, or the rest of "S.H.I.E.L.D" was to properly be angry with them, and get blamed for that, too.

 _Right,_ Stark smirked, _Because that's what this is supposed to be, isn't it?_

"Peace."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **O** **kay, peeps! Who's seen** _ **Age of Ultron**_ **yet? Hands up! XD**

 **Yeah, it was TOTALLY epic, well worth the three–year wait. But seeing how it only came out this Friday (and I saw it opening day because I'm cool), I'll leave THAT alone unless someone PMs. In wake of seeing the movie, though, I started looking through all my old Avengers fanfics after I came back, and realized that I never finished this! Whoops! I decided to work on it, and lo and behold, it actually took! Finally, huh? XD**

 **So I hope you're all ready for the last installment of the "Kings" Trilogy. This one will obviously be centering around the 2 years that the Avengers back on Earth spent while Thor and Loki were stuck doing their own thing on Asgard. If you haven't noticed, the timeline at the very beginning of some segments will be very critical to understanding the story fully. Some will start about 11/2 years before, and some will pitch back and forth between all members – except Thor's, obviously. So pay attention and don't get lost!**

 **First off, I'd life to present the winner of the last Question Contest:**

 **TheFGnat**

 **As usual, she will receive the special dedication for this story, and here are the original questions. Her answers (and I have taken the liberty of spell and grammar–checking), have been recorded below.**

 **Question One:** _How do you think Loki lifted the Curse over Midgard, and brought all the people back, in the end?_

 **Question Two:** _Why did Loki choose to leave Asgard, and not fully participate in the final battle until the very end? Where did he go, and what did he do? Why? And was he right to stop Thor from killing Lor'Vael? Why/Why not?_

 **Question Three:** _Why did Thor allow Asgard – and his friends – to think Loki was actually dead? Why did he even agree to lie for his brother in the first place?_

 **Question Four:** _Why did Axel Hernsson fix Loki's dagger and return it to Thor? And who could have left the three white lilies, the red rose, and the Rubik cube at Loki's "grave?" What did these actions symbolize?_

 **Question Five:** _Axel Hernsson lied to everyone from the very moment he was introduced in "The King of Everything," from everything about his involvement with Remus Zak'Vael to the Curse he put over Loki, and of course, about the final outcome. Why? Was he justified? Why/why not?_

 **Question Six:** _The Avengers, especially Banner, treated Loki as one of their own and even mourned him in their own ways after he was "killed." What did Loki do to earn their trust – and forgiveness? What did Loki say that inspired Banner to fight Du and Xu'Vael without the aid of the Hulk?_

 **Question Seven:** _Do you believe Loki will ever return to Asgard/Midgard again? Why/why not?_

 **BONUS:** _What was the gold bird, and what was its true purpose? What did it represent?_

 **TheFGnat**

 **1:** I think he might've lifted the Curse by Blessing Midgard and its people with the blue dagger. After all, it injured a Vael and so maybe, through blood, holds that Vael power needed to Curse/Bless others. Even if not actually wielded, perhaps possessing it alone would make the difference.

 **2.** I guess Loki was, even after everything, still insecure as to his place in Thor's life. I think that after he "died" he felt that his part was done, that Thor was better equipped in finishing the job. Not only that, but death gives him the freedom to lead his life however he wants it free of any kind of pressure. So I guess he went to tie up loose ends and watch over Thor to ensure all went according to plan. Was he right or wrong to stop him from killing Lor'Vael? I guess so. I think Loki needed him alive to lift the Curse.

 **3.** Well, Thor loves Loki, and if lying to everybody means Loki will be happy and in peace, then however much it'd hurt, he'd do it. Because Loki is his little brother.

 **4.** I guess he fixed it for two reasons: The first would be because of sentimental reasons: because it was Thor's gift to Loki and therefore, secondly, it would tie in with my answer to Question 1: that the dagger was needed to end the Curse. As for the flowers, I think they came from the Warriors Three (the lilies) and Sif (the rose). The number of flowers would match up, even though the thought of Sif giving Loki a rose is kind of weird, because roses are THE flower of romance… and yeah, I doubt SIF FEELS THAT WAY ABOUT HIM. The Rubik cube is no doubt from Jane because she gave it to him when he was hurt (as it in _"The King of Nothing?"_ I think it was very early on and they only just started to be friends). Why would they leave those objects at his grave? As a mark of respect and care. And even though the Warriors Three and Sif hadn't been on the best of terms with Loki in recent years, hey still grew up together. And he and Jane grew to be brother and sister, the Rubik cube representing the start of that bond.

 **5.** I guess he kind of had to lie. This was a test. If Loki had to go through all of it on his own to survive his Curse and save everyone, Axel couldn't tell him. That'd be like cheating on an exam, and not just any exam, but the most important, life–changing test in your entire life. So, yeah, I guess he was justified.

 **6.** Well, first he saved their lives, which helps. Then being mostly calm, unthreatening, honest (kind of) and affectionate towards Thor must have shown them that he was different. Loki, having that little therapy session with Banner, showed the both that things they had things in common, and an understanding of the world that others don't always have, and that they were strong. I guess that's what inspired Banner to fight in his own body. And of course they fought together, had each other's back. That creates a strong bond between people. _"Brothers in arms"_ as they say.

 **7.** I think he'll check up on his family and friends at some point, to make sure they're alright. Perhaps even attend important milestones in their lives (births of children, deaths). But he'd do that discreetly, unseen or in disguise. He is "dead" after all."

 **BONUS:** I think the bird was a physical manifestation of Loki's soul which he could merge with to fly (of Chapter 39: _"… and so, spreading golden wings, Loki dived"_ ).

 **Thank you so much for your detailed answers. And while they may not necessarily be** _ **"right"**_ **or** _ **"wrong,"**_ **I do really appreciate you taking the time, so well done, and thank you again.**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **A** **nyway, I do love getting all these Reviews and see all this support for my work, and hope to see more.**

 **Regardless, I hope you all enjoy this story. I'm working hard on it, so please look forward to it!**

 **The next Chapter will be posted up as soon as possible!**

 **N._.s._.S**


	2. Or Not II

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary to understand what's happening.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name **_"NothingSoSpecial"_** … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes and alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year** **before** "The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers_ _,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 3,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron,"_ **obviously. _  
_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **Author's Note: Messed up something in the first chapter.**

 **Anyone who knows what it was gets a cookie. XD**

 **Anyway, moving on!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Two: Or Not... II.**

" **Peace begins with a smile."**

– **Mother Theresa.**

 **October 22** **nd** **2014; Wednesday.**

 **Brooklyn, New York City, USA.**

 **Handy Apartments, Room 19 A – 6:32:38 A.M.**

 **65 Days, 18 Hours, 28 Minutes, and 22 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

"… **S** **tark sent** **us another file.** It looks like a pretty big one this time, too." Wilson was saying, entering the small, Brooklyn apartment, laptop already extended, "He says he wants you to go through it and then call him back."

"Call him, huh?" Cap asked, taking the thing from him and opening it up to display a note, raising a gold brow in grim amusement when he opened up the email and found a short note, dripping with the usual Stark bravado, waiting for him, "… You're right. Tony's been busy again. Must not have anything more important to do…"

 _ **Capcicle & Birdbrain #2–**_

 _ **Found this. Might be useful?**_

 _ **Call me if it leads to anything good.**_

– _**S**_

"Number two? _Birdbrain?_ Oh, come on, man," Wilson grumbled, though he was grinning – and Cap knew it was because he was excited about being (unofficially) invited to join the team last week, "It's _Falcon_. Like, _'caw, caw, mother–!'_ "

" _Focus,_ Sam," Cap interrupted, as he quickly transferred the file onto the 1 TB USB in the shape of a large, ugly, and terribly gaudy beer bottle Stark had unceremoniously thrown at him the last time they'd seen each other, and then pulled it out again when it was done, shoving it into his jeans pocket, "We'll read through it when we get back."

"So we're really checking out the museum again today?"

"The tip we got yesterday said there's a man with one arm walking around in the late afternoon."

"Yeah? And? Do you know how many _'one–armed men'_ there are in New York City?" Wilson retorted, folding his arms across his broad chest in disapproval as Cap closed the laptop and slid it, too, into his bag before shouldering it, "We're better off going after the guys on the list Tony sent. You know, the handlers?"

– _**The list is long - too long. There are so many names, and few of them are even still alive. Those who are were currently in custody of the UN after they were captured by various members of the Avengers, right after the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D. back in April. When they interrogated them about the Winter Soldier, however, they only laughed and said the same thing.  
**_

" _ **Vy nikogda ne naydete yego."**_

" _ **You will never find him."**_ **–**

Going after the handlers had been Stark's idea, initially. He'd shoved most of Bucky's files and the list of handlers at Cap, along with the USB, saying it was probably their best shot. He explained that Bucky; if he did actually, _somehow_ remember who he was by now, would probably be pissed that he'd been brainwashed and forced to work for HYDRA for the past few decades. He'd go after each and every person who'd had a hand in it, and kill them.

 _I don't have time for any of this goose–chasing bullshit,_ He'd said, _But you do, apparently._ _So he's yours._

 _Thank you._

 _Don't thank me, Cap. Just hope he's still the guy you knew and not just an assassin when you find him._

"You're the one who said Brooklyn's our best starting point, remember?" Cap reminded him, after a long, uncomfortable pause, "Besides, I've got a good feeling on this one. _Bucky's_ here… but if he's not, then you win. I'll tell Tony, he'll hand over the Quinjet, and we'll be on our way again."

"And you're still sure it's _Bucky_ we're looking for, right?"

Cap shot him a dangerous look as he went by, but, remarkably, Wilson stood his ground.

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 22** **nd** **2014; Wednesday.**

 **Brooklyn, New York City, USA.**

 **The Smithsonian Institution – 11:45:00 A.M.**

 **65 Days, 13 Hours, 15 Minutes, and 60 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

 **T** **o no one's surprise, the** **Smithsonian Institute's most popular piece is still the Captain America one, even after the HYDRA incident.** _Today is no exception. The yard is already full of excited kids and their parents by the time Cap and Wilson, decked out in hooded sweatshirts, jeans, and tennis shoes, walked through security. Their tipster, an old security guard named Stanley, who'd worked at the museum for over thirty years, waved them over as they neared the exhibit._

"He usually just stands over there, nice and quiet," _The old man said, pointing a finger at the very furthest, least–lit corner of the museum that remained closest to the Captain America display,_ "Never had a problem with him, you know. Only realized he had the metal arm when I saw him touch the glass one day. That's when I called you guys."

"We appreciate it," _Wilson replied, as Cap watched the crowds,_ "Did you get a picture?"

"Sorry, no. But he's always wearing the same baseball cap and hoodie."

"You said he touched the glass?" _Wilson asked,_ "Is that allowed?"

"No," _Stanley shrugged,_ "So I went up and reminded him. He said the strangest thing."

"Like?" _Cap looked over at him with renewed interest._

"Dunno. Had to be Russian or something. Walked out after that. Haven't seen him since, matter of fact."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 22** **nd** **2014; Wednesday.**

 **Brooklyn, New York City, USA.**

 **The Smithsonian Institution – 2:13:11 A.M.**

 **65 Days, 10 Hours, 47 Minutes, and 49 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

 **T** **he afternoon was long.** As it wore on and on, the Smithsonian became crowded and uncomfortable – and it was then that Cap really understood why Bucky, if he had in fact come here at all, had chosen this time; it was loud and he could be completely invisible– even more invisible than he was now.

"See anything?" Cap asked through the small comm. line between his fingers as he passed the exhibit for what had to have been the third time in the past fifteen minutes, "Nothing near the exhibit."

"It's clean," Wilson reported, "We have eyes over the whole place, Cap. He's not here."

"Just keep–"

As the words left his mouth, he was suddenly cut off by something dark and quick caught the corner of his eye. As he turned, steely–grey blue eyes clash with cool, beetle black, and suddenly, Steve Rogers finds himself face–to–face with none other than the Winter Soldier himself, standing mere feet away from him; gloved hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail, and his face is haunted and pale, but Cap can still see his old friend underneath all that, underneath the cold black eyes and all.

It's Bucky in there, now, not just the dangerous assassin the world was currently terrified of.

"… Bucky."

The comm. in his hands falls to the ground, useless, as Cap unconsciously stepped forward.

 _"Ya znayu tebya."_ **I know you.**

The Russian is easy, but it takes Cap a couple minutes to decipher it. Even as he'd lain in the hospital, he'd asked Natasha to teach him Russian. After Steve had the basics down a week later, they'd drilled conversations over and over, so that Cap was at least semi–literate by now. His pronunciation was still crap six months later, of course, but he could _understand,_ and that was probably what mattered most here.

"Yes," Cap replied, slowly, _"Da."_

Bucky blinked, once, slowly, and then he nodded, also once, this time sharply, seriously.

 _"Vashe litso vezde. No ya videl yego ran'she, prezhde chem. On byl vezde. Obrabotchiki. Oi ne nravisya. Oni pytalis' otnyt' yeye… No eto ne rabotayet. Ya znayu tebya."_ **Your face is everywhere. But I've seen it before, before it was everywhere. The handlers, they didn't like that. They tried to take it away... But it didn't work. I know you.**

" _Vy pravy. Vy znayete, mne. Menya zovut_ _Steve Rogers,"_ **You're right. You do know me. My name is Steve Rogers.** Cap said, forcing his voice to remain leveled, calm, speaking simply, slowly, pausing a few times between sentences so he wouldn't either startle his old friend or say something he shouldn't, _"U vas James Buchannan Barnes. My oba vyrosli v Brooklyn. My srazhalis' v World War II; Vy byli geroyem ... i moy luchshiy drug. No vy znayete, vse, chto uzhe, ne tak li? Vot pochemu vy postoyanno vozvrashchayutsya syuda, ne tak li? Chtoby uznat', chto oni ne budut govorit' vam?"_ **And yours is James Buchanan Barnes. We both grew up in Brooklyn. We fought in World War II; you were a hero… and my best friend. But you know all that already, don't you? That's why you keep coming back here, isn't it? To learn what they wouldn't tell you?**

Speaking in Russian was starting to seriously grate on Steve's nerves and slowly ebbing patience, and he had to fight from switching back to English every few broken sentences. He _knew_ Bucky could speak English; he'd done so during their fight over the Potomac, didn't he? Was he speaking Russian to ward off anyone who might be listening? Were his handlers still after him, or was this was all an act and he was in danger? Did Bucky's memory deteriorate in this short time that he _forgot_ he knew any other language? Or was this some sort of test?

" _Oni skazali, chto vy moya tsel'... prosto drugaya tsel'. No ya znal, chto ty. Oni lgali mne. Tak chto ya spas tebya. Togda ya pobezhal ot obrabotchikov. Prishel, chtoby nayti vas, chtoby skazat', chto vy ne moya missiya bol'she, i ya tebya pomnyu."_ **They said you were my target… just another target. But I knew you. They lied to me. So I saved you. Then I ran from the handlers. Came to find you, to say that you are not my mission anymore.** Bucky's eyes shifted for the first time and he looked over his shoulder searching the crowds as though looking for something, his voice cracking as it became almost frantic and quick, like whip strikes, _"No obrabotchiki, oni mogut byt'. A teper', ya dumayu, chto oni yest'."_ **But the handlers, they can be. And now, I think they are.**

"Bucky," Cap began, cautiously, abandoning Russian at last, as Bucky made to turn – as though he'd made to just walk away, "Wait a sec. Where are you going? What are you going to–?"

" _Cap!"_

Cap looked quickly over his shoulder as Wilson, backed by two security guards, emerged from the crowd, then back at Bucky, who didn't seem at all perturbed by this sudden turn of events, as he kept his hands safely in his pockets and his dark eyes never shifted once from Cap even as Wilson, emerged from the crowd, stopping frozen in his tracks once he got an eyeful of who stood in front of him, throwing a hand out to stop the guards from moving in.

"What are you going to do?" Cap asked again, taking another step forward.

"I am going to fix this."

The deep, dry, and unexpectedly ragged English sets off alarms deep in the back of Cap's head instantly, and he takes another step forward as Bucky looks over his shoulder again, taking a hand out of his pocket– though Cap couldn't honestly say that he was happy when he realized the gloved hand was empty.

"No," He said, desperately, as Bucky slowly turns away again, " _Vy ne dolzhny delat'! Nikto ne dolzhen umeret'!"_

 **You don't have to do this!** **No one else has to die!**

"Yes, I do."

At that moment, the crowd suddenly converged. Cap's comm. was crushed as people flooded between him and his old friend. However, even as strangers passed them, drawing them further and further apart; frantic, wide steel eyes still managed to meet cool black. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze in its tracks as the Winter Soldier slowly turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of people once more.

 _"Bucky!"_

Unfortunately, before Cap could think of going after him, of stopping him, before he could even get a _single step in,_ Wilson's voice shouted from behind him, cutting through the oblivious crowds that wove in all directions.

"Cap, wait! Don't even _think_ about it, man!"

Cap turned as Wilson clamped a surprisingly strong hand over his shoulder.

"God, don't ever do that to me again," Wilson snapped, taking a deep, relieved breath, adding when it became clear Cap wasn't about to answer, "What were you _thinking?"_

And suddenly the chances of finding _James Buchanan Barnes_ were as bad as they were this morning.

If not worse.

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 22** **nd** **2014; Wednesday.**

 **Stark Tower, New York City, USA.**

" _ **The Loft,"**_ **Floor 30 – 9:27:14 P.M.**

 **65 Days, 3 Hours, 33 Minutes, and 46 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

 **S** **tark** **wasn't helping.**

At all.

"So this guy meets you at the Smithsonian, like buddies meeting up for coffee or something, like he's _not one of the most dangerous assassins in the world and hell–bent on killing you less than a year ago,_ you talk for a little bit – in _Russian,_ apparently, because why the hell not – And then you just let him walk away? _You let him go?"_ Tony pauses for the dramatic effect, "Are you _freaking_ kidding me? Are you both _crazy?"_

"Actually, _I_ made him let him go," Wilson retorted, rising to Cap's defense instantly, before Cap could actually say anything himself, "He came out of nowhere, Stark. They go back and forth for a few minutes, but when I get up there, he leaves. Cap was about to go after him, but I stopped him. That's all. Simple as that. No one got hurt. But there was no way I was about to let Cap disappear with him. All we knew, it was a trap."

The kid was right, but the word _"trap"_ made Cap's blood boil.

 _Your face is everywhere.… But I knew you. They lied to me. So I saved you._

 _I am going to fix this._

Those weren't the words of an enemy, were they?

"Wow," Stark laughed, incredulously, rubbing his temples, and pointing at Wilson as he added, " _Wow_. Okay, Strike that, Cap. Congratulations, _you're_ not the crazy one here anymore. _Birdman_ over there is."

"Hey,"Cap interrupted, sharply, before Wilson could retort, "Tony, This _isn't over."_ He's going after the handlers now."

"The _handlers?"_ At that Stark's brow suddenly furrows in unease, "Wasn't that _my_ idea first? Cap, are we even _sure_ we shouldn't just find and arrest him already? He _did_ almost kill you six months ago, friendly now or not. I could get in some _serious_ trouble if he kills anyone else, especially people in the custody of the UN– which the handlers are, by the way. Do you have any idea what _Ross_ is going to do when he finds out?"

"Tony," Cap warned, seriously, "Don't start that again. Please. You _know_ you don't have to–"

"What?" Stark challenged, " _What_ don't I know? And I'm _just_ _asking,_ Cap. _I'm_ not going anywhere _near_ the guy– you have my word on that. All I'm saying is, unless I get to wring Fury's sorry neck for going over my head like this, and get whatever files he's got hidden from me somewhere, there's no way _in hell_ I'm trusting anything _any of you_ do right now. You're lucky to have gotten away with as much as you have without Ross barging in."

"That's another thing," The steely–eyed Captain retorted, darkly, "You don't _get_ to be mad at Fury, me, or anyone else, and you're _not_ under any obligation to Ross, no matter _what_ he says. Plus, you weren't even _involved_ in what happened, and you _weren't_ the one who had to take down those helicarriers _you_ built, either. Why are _you_ mad?"

Actually, in hindsight, that was actually a pretty terrible thing for him to say, and Cap instantly regretted losing patience. Tony actually had a really, _really_ damn good reason to be angry– and probably had the right to be just as angry as Cap was about this whole screwed–up situation.

Cap had been the one to tell him that HYDRA, Alexander Peirce, his predecessors, and even the Winter Soldier had hurt him long before this. Tony never realized that Obadiah Stane, his first nemesis, had in fact been a HYDRA operative. In fact, Stark's former "friend and mentor" had probably worked with Peirce and HYDRA to not only attempt to murder Tony himself, but arrange the whole "accident" that killed his parents. Now, Tony alone was forced to handle the aftermath of the destruction "his company single-handedly caused" after S.H.I.E. him and nearly used the weapons _he'd_ created to take over the world.

Tony had _literally_ made and handed over the gun meant to kill him to his enemies.

And boy, he was not about to let anyone forget _that_ anytime soon, either.

"Because I _was_ one of the guys HYDRA was about to shoot out of the sky six months ago!" Stark snapped, firing up at once and slamming his cell onto the coffee table, nearly knocking it over as he stood up, adding, "I'd be dead right now if those crazy bastards had their way! And in case you forgot, it was _my_ tech up there, Cap. Remember? It was _my_ _name_ on the sides of those carriers. I _built_ those! _I was responsible for that!"_

Cap traded glances at Wilson, whose face had paled a bit during the tirade. The former counselor had never before been subjected to Stark's volatile temper, and Cap felt kind of sorry for him.

The guy had absolutely no idea what he was walking into.

 _So you want to be an Avenger?_

 _Hell yeah, I do!_

In fact, Cap was 90% sure he _still_ had no idea.

"… So stuff the whole _'why am I mad'_ thing already, Cap," Stark snapped, throwing himself back onto his couch and grabbing his cell phone in a huff, "I had a gun to _my_ head, too. And I built it myself."

Cap just rubbed his temples and, thankfully, managed to quell another retort.

The silence is long and agitating, and Cap knows that Stark has every intention of sitting there and letting them stew in anticipation until he had something better to do. He knows Stark knows that they would never take the Quinjet and take off for the UN if he didn't give them permission first – he knows Cap a little too well for that. Cap also knows it wasn't fair arguing with his friend like this either, considering the pressure the man was currently over. He was about to give up when Stark's cell beeped and he sighed.

"Go," He said in a resigned, tired voice, "Take the jet, I'll cover for you. Don't crash it."

"Thanks, Tony," Cap managed, "I appreciate–"

"Yeah, yeah," Stark interrupted, getting up again and heading towards the balcony, his cell already at his ear and back toward them the entire time, "Just go find your friend– and try not to cause another international incident while you're at it, will you? I've got enough to deal with already."

He closed the balcony door behind him in clear dismissal.

"Was that a guilt trip?" Wilson demanded, incredulously, "Did Tony Stark seriously just try _guilt tripping_ you?"

"Yeah," Cap answered, quietly, watching Stark lean over the balcony, cell still in hand and running his other free one through his hair in clear exhaustion, "… And it's working. Give me a minute."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Russian, Russian anyone? Anyone at all?**

 **No?**

 **Good thing I put the translations in the brackets, then.**

 **Thank God for Google Translate!**

 **... And do you have any idea how long it took to do that?**


	3. God of What Now?

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary to understand what's happening.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name **_"NothingSoSpecial"_** … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes and alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year** **before** "The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers_ _,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 3,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron,"_ **obviously. _  
_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Three: God of What Now?**

 **"It's so hard to leave– until you leave. And then it's the easiest goddamned thing in the world."**

 **\- John Green.**

 **Friday, November 8, 2013.**

 **Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean.**

 **The Quinjet – 4:02:12 P.M.**

 **414 Days, 8 Hours, 58 Minutes, and 48 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **L** **ess than an hour** **after Cap saw the news in London, he was on the Quinjet and headed there himself.**

"What the hell do you mean _portals,_ kid?" Stark was shouting into his cell, impatiently, "Get _out_ there, now! And no, I don't give a _damn_ what that plane just did! And find Thor while you're at it!"

Stark stood next to the carrier door, one hand over his cell and the other drumming impatiently against the wall behind him. Banner sat next to him on the floor, hands in his lap, tense and watchful. Cap was in the pilot's seat, having taken over when Stark's cell had gone off.

"What did he say?" Banner asked, patiently, when Stark shoved had been quiet for a little while, "And _what_ portal?"

"I'm on hold for Thor's girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend's dad or some crap like that," Stark swore, "Erik Selvig? Apparently there are portals of doom opening all around London and _eating things._ Thor and some evil alien or whatever are fighting it out near them and keep disappearing into wherever "world" they lead. No one's got a clear shot at what's going on."

 _"Erik Selvig?"_ Banner's brows knotted together, "Wait a sec, Tony. We know who Selvig-"

"– Yeah, no kidding. I know he's the one Loki–" Stark interrupted, "Hold on, Banner– _Wait, he's gone now? What the hell?"_

"Tony, stop _shouting,"_ Cap commanded from his seat, "You're not helping anything."

Stark ignored him completely as he looked down at Banner, looking frustrated.

"Thor and the alien just vanished again and the moron on the other end is freaking out," He said in a clipped, though still rightly uncomfortable tone, " _You_ talk to him, will you? You're better at this than me."

Without a word, Banner got up off the floor and took the cell when Stark offered it.

"Hello, this is Dr. Bruce Banner, speaking. I am aboard a jet heading for London right now, with the rest of the team," Banner said into the cell, politely, as calm as ever, "May I ask who this is?"

Banner listened intently for a few beats, and then smiled.

"All right… I see, _Ian Boothby_ , right? Is Dr. Selvig available...? Thank you." Banner's face suddenly brightened and he gave a short nod to tell them he'd gotten through– with Tony swearing mutinously under his breath and throwing his hands up in clear exasperation, "Oh, Dr. Selvig, I'm glad to know you're safe. This is Bruce Banner… We're heading to your position now, and were wondering if you could tell us what happened to Thor–"

Banner stopped and his face darkened again. He leaned against the metal wall of the Quinjet and his brows furrowed again as he listened, holding up a hand for silence when Stark tried to say something.

"Did he?" Banner paused, "… But is he leaving again _now?_ Right this second?"

This time, Cap and Stark traded quick, concerned glances.

"Tell him we need to speak with him before he leaves for Asgard, Dr. Selvig… yes, it's very important," Banner said, before lowering the cell, "Cap, what's our ETA right now?"

"Twenty minutes," Cap answered, as he put the jet on autopilot, "Maybe thirty."

"What happened, Banner?" Stark asked, suddenly uncharacteristically serious now.

"Thor won," Banner replied, quietly, "Fighting's over."

"Isn't that _good_ news for once?"

"Yes, but Thor's not exactly keen on sticking around at the moment."

"What?" Now even Cap looked concerned. He got up and joined them by the carrier door, "Why not?"

"Selvig said Thor needs to leave as soon as possible," Banner paused, "… He said someone was just killed."

"But is Thor _with_ Selvig right now?" Cap asked, after stricken silence had permeated the jet for a couple of tense moments, brows furrowing in renewed concern as he took the cell from Banner, "– Hello, Dr. Selvig? This is Steve Rogers, with the Avengers. Is Thor there with you? … May I speak with him?"

Stark snorted. " _Goldilocks_ doesn't know _how_ to use a–"

"– Thor?" Cap shot Stark a surprisingly venomous look, though his tone remained cordial, "… Yes, I know. It's all over the news… yes, word _does_ travel quickly here… listen, we just need to know what happened, then you can–"

Cap paused then, and Stark could hear Thor's booming voice on the other line, but he knew that by the grim, disturbed look on the soldier's face that Thor probably didn't even realize he _was_ shouting. This time, when Banner moved to speak, Cap was the one who silenced him with a quick shake of his head.

"… Okay," Cap finally spoke up, "All right… thank you, Thor. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Thor must have retorted with something a little less–than–accommodating, because Cap grimaced as he tossed the cell back to Stark and headed down toward the armory for his shield.

"What happened?" Stark demanded as he passed.

"Thor said he's willing to wait for us, but he hasn't got a lot of time. We need to hurry."

"Well, _that's_ a start," Banner said, kindly, "… But did he mention what exactly we're walking into?"

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Friday, November 8, 2013.**

 **Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean.**

 **The Quinjet – 5:22:11 P.M.**

 **414 Days, 7 Hours, 38 Minutes, and 49 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **T** **hor was already at the landing zone, waiting when they arrived thirty minutes later.** He was sitting quietly next to Jane, with Selvig, Darcy, and Ian Boothby hovering near. Cap couldn't quite see the God of Thunder's face from where they were, but he certainly _looked_ like he'd just warded off an alien attack – his trademark red cape was missing and he had a fresh, bad–looking, bloodied wound on the side of his head along with other, smaller injuries.

Mjolnir was sitting on the ground at his feet.

 _"Hey!"_ Stark called out, waving as they approached. Thor started to stand to greet them, but Jane stopped him with a kind hand on his shoulder, and he sat down again without saying anything, looking a little wearier than he had seconds ago, _"Rude!_ You having a party without us on our own planet, Goldilocks?"

"I would have sent for your aid had there been time. I will tell you all what has happened here, but then Jane and I must return to Asgard. There are…" Thor answered, quite tersely and completely ignoring Stark's jab and the nickname, and a lengthy, tense pause followed before the God cleared his throat and moved on, voice loosening a little, "… _Other matters_ that demand my attention."

"We understand," Cap said quickly, as Banner and Stark traded glances, "Just tell us what's going on."

"It's a long story, but…" Jane said, glancing at Thor, nervously, "Is it okay?"

"Yes," Thor stated, calmly, taking Mjolnir from the ground as he finally stood up, pushing his long golden blonde hair out of his face with his free hand, "We have time, Jane. Let me walk with them."

Jane stayed back as Thor joined them.

"The damage should not be extensive," Thor began, as the little group moved away, "I made sure of that–"

"Nope, don't even worry about it. Not your job," Stark gallantly interrupted, "Just tell us what happened. We haven't seen you since _Rock of Age's_ little invasion, and now you come back warding off _another_ one all by yourself."

"The Dark Elf Malekith of Svartalfheim attacked Asgard looking for an ancient, powerful artifact known as the Aether," Thor began, ignoring the mention of his wayward brother without a hitch as they circled around the Quinjet; leaving Jane and the rest of her group behind as they talked, "Jane happened to find it here on Earth. I returned for her and took her to Asgard to protect her. Malekith was going to use the Aether to destroy the Nine Realms, but it was thanks to the Convergence– a rare event that connects the Nine Realms together– and Loki that we were able to draw Malekith and the Aether out in the Svartalfheim and defeat him before he could."

"Thanks to _Loki_?" Cap questioned, looking around, brows furrowing in obvious concern, "Is he here?"

"No. Loki was… he has been taken back to Asgard," Thor paused, then shook his head, "He sacrificed himself to stop Malekith in the Svartalfheim. It is one of the many reasons I am needed in Asgard now."

 _"Sacrificed himself?"_ Stark mouthed, incredulously, to Banner, who shook his head behind Thor's back with a small shrug, though his own heavy brows noticeably flared in intense interest, _"What the hell?"_

Luckily, Thor missed both reactions as Cap drew his attention away again.

"You look pretty beaten up," Cap said, reaching out for Thor's shoulder, "You sure you can't stick around to get those cleaned up? I'm sure Banner could have it done in a few minutes."

"My friend, I think you underestimate the power of Asgardian healers, and greatly overestimate your own," Thor answered, with a glance at Jane, who was standing up by this time and had moved to join Selvig and the others, though she kept sneaking glances at them, "Besides, I received word from Heimdall just before your arrival that my father may have been able to save Loki. I need to be there if he is successful. I owe my brother that much, at least."

With that, Thor turned on his heel and started walking back. Cap and Banner were able to keep up with his stride, but Stark noticeably had trouble, and by the time he caught up with the others, he was grimacing and noticeably redder in the face, having pulled out his tie to keep it from strangling him as he moved.

"Having trouble there?" Cap asked, him with a good–natured smile, "And _I'm_ the old man, right?"

"Shut up," The _genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist_ grumbled, shooting Cap a dirty look, " _You_ were already on ice before _I_ was even born, remember? So don't be lecturing _me_ about getting old. If it weren't for that serum, you wouldn't be making it out of a nursing home anytime soon."

Cap snorted, but before he could actually reply, Thor spoke up.

"Dr. Selvig, Darcy, Ian, thank you for your help," He said to the other three, as he bade Jane to take his hand, "You have aided the Nine Realms today by fighting a great foe."

Selvig gave a smile and a little wave and Darcy fist–bumped him.

"And you, my friends," He turned back to Cap, Stark, and Banner, "I will return as soon as I can."

" _I_ hope so," Stark answered with a smile, "Let us know if there's another evil alien first, though. That way I know whether I'm breaking out the suit or the beer first."

"I think we can manage that." Thor grinned and he turned to Jane, "But for now, stand back everyone."

Selvig's little group all scrambled back at the same time Stark and the others did as Thor looked up into the bright sky to call down the Bifrost, wrapping an arm securely around Jane's waist as he did so.

 _"Heimdall, open the gate!"_

There was brilliant flash of gold light, which burned the usual, large rune into the blacktop, and once again, the God of Thunder and his girlfriend had vanished again.

"Wow," Selvig said, still looking up at the sky, as silence suddenly reigned over the others, " _That_ will never get old."

The silence went on for a couple beats after that, then–

"So did you just _not_ notice how he insulted you back there?" Stark asked, turning to Banner and patting the good doctor's broad shoulder with a grin as Ian and Darcy gawked at them, as if just now realizing who they were standing with, "You get _no_ respect around here, Bruce. I mean _seriously_."

"For the last time, Tony, I'm not _that_ kind of doctor, either."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **So, how's it so far?**

 **Don't worry, we'll see some real action soon, I promise.**

 **XD**


	4. 1 x 1 Is Still 1

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary to understand what's happening.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name **_"NothingSoSpecial"_** … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes and alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year** **before** "The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers_ _,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 3,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron,"_ **obviously. _  
_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Four: 1 x 1... is Still 1.**

 **"I'll fight for us... But I won't fight alone."**

– **Anonymous.**

 **October 22** **nd** **2014; Wednesday.**

 **Stark Tower, New York City, USA.**

" _ **The Loft,"**_ **Floor 30 – 9:27:14 P.M.**

 **65 Days, 3 Hours, 33 Minutes, and 46 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

" **T** **ony?"**

Cap watched in dismay as his friend's shoulders clench as he comes to stand beside him. Of course, it's definitely not a good sign – it usually meant that his friend was in a bad mood, and _that_ either lead to a flat–out _"screw you"_ (or some other, choicely–worded send–off), a shouting-match, or at least a good tantrum, was on the way. Cap himself had been treated to several of these outbursts over the past two years, and knew by now they were only triggered by massive stress – stress that Stark, much like his bad dreams, couldn't just tinker away.

"Thought I got rid of you already, Cap," Stark grumbled, without even looking up, keeping his gaze firmly on the city far below, though Cap thought he saw a flicker of (albeit weary) defiance as he added, " _Now_ what? You're not going to ask if I'll come with you, are you? I told you back in July, this is _your_ party."

"Not if you don't want to," Cap answered, kindly, hoping to head off a fight, "I just wanted to check on you."

"Yeah?" Stark's tone didn't soften – and the challenge in it kind of hurt, actually.

"We're a team, remember?" Cap reasoned, folding his arms, "Sam and I couldn't do this without your help, Tony."

" _Damn right_ you couldn't," Stark snorted, and Cap was relieved to see Stark's shoulders loosen a little, "Do you have _any idea_ how hard it is for me to keep Ross off your backs right now?"

"No, I don't," Cap urged, calmly, encouraged, "You haven't mentioned Ross was after Bucky. Just Bruce."

 _"That's_ another thing," Stark added, shortly, barely acknowledging Cap's comment, "Bruce has been _missing_ since London, and you never asked where he was _once_. And that was _before_ all this HYDRA crap started."

 _"You_ were busy with Ross, remember?" Cap retorted, "You probably didn't even know until you got back."

"Actually, yeah, I _did_ , thanks," Stark retorted, his tone noticeably cooling again as he glancing at Cap for the first time and raising a dark brow, "Banner was still here when Ross started on me. And I keep _tabs_ on all of you guys anyway, okay? _I_ always know what's up. So don't tell me _I'm_ not being a "team–player" here. _You're_ the one who didn't bother telling _me_ I was working for lunatics until _after_ you got rid of them."

"Then they would have come after _you_ , Tony," Cap shot back, already sick of having this same conversation every time they saw each other (which was about once a week), "Fury and Hill were already gone, the Winter Soldier was killing people all over the place, and Nat and I were both fugitives. They already had you and Pepper surrounded by HYDRA agents by the time all this happened. They would have killed you."

Stark didn't seem to have a good enough retort for that one, because he stayed quiet for a long time after that. Cap watched him draw a hand through his dark hair and his shoulders fall again in tired defeat.

"Seriously," Stark finally said, after a few minutes of silence, "That doesn't make this any better."

"No, it doesn't. I know," Cap agreed, quickly, "But listen to me anyway. You've had a lot to deal with last year, even _without_ London. I know that this situation's not the best, and you'd prefer if Sam and I left Bucky alone, but that's not going to happen. I'm not leaving a friend behind, and Bucky's one of them. He saved my life, remember?"

Stark sighed, and it was then Cap knew _he_ knew he'd finally been beat.

"Damn it, Cap," Stark swore, "This isn't about _him._ "

"Then what is it?" Cap folded his arms as Stark gripped the railing with both hands.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep Ross off you," Stark snapped back, still not looking at him, "I can barely keep him off Banner right now, and – I'm sorry – but Banner's got a whole lot more at stake right now than you."

Cap's voice didn't even hitch. "I understand."

"No, you _don't_ , Cap," Stark growled, without pausing, "Ross isn't going to beat around the bush with you. It doesn't matter how close you are or what you tell him – if he even thinks you're holding out, he'll arrest you _and_ Wilson, and if you don't do what he wants, he's got a few things up his sleeve that might _make_ you."

"Is that what he's doing to you?"Cap retorted, incredulously, "Tony, is Ross _threatening_ you?"

Stark's shoulders slumped again, but it was the pained grimace on his face that made Cap regret asking.

"Let's just say I've got a few skeletons in my closet, Cap," Stark finally answered, quietly, not looking him in the eyes as he slowly straightened up again, glancing back inside the Loft and shaking his head, "… Wilson's still waiting for you. Looks like you've got yourself a serious admirer."

"You could always come with?" Cap offered, ignoring the light ribbing and retorting with a light smile of his own, "We _could_ use you out there, Tony, as much as I hate to admit it."

Stark's smile actually broadened a bit, and his eyes softened for the first time, but he didn't take it.

"Nice try, Spangles," He said, " _Your_ party, remember? Besides, I'm heading to Malibu tomorrow."

"Malibu?" It was Cap's turn to be surprised as he dropped his hand back to his side. "Why?"

"Don't worry," Stark smiled again, making bunny-ears with his pointer and middle fingers as he spoke, "It's nothing bad. Just for some _'fresh air.'_ Pepper's idea, of course…"

It was when he said that, that Cap saw what was really happening. Saw, for the first time, the old, tired lines that creased and deepened in his friend's forehead, the perpetually furrowed, worried brow; tired dark eyes that had almost lost the mischievous glint that most who knew him loved – and hated – at the same time. His jaw was always set now, his shoulders tense – everything about him looked tense, in fact, even the way he stood.

Whatever the General was doing, it was _working._

It was at _that_ moment, too, Cap realized, belatedly, that it had been _exactly_ one hundred and fifty days since Thor's fight-n'-flight in London. Shortly after had been when Stark first mentioned Ross' leering over his shoulder, and complained that Banner had left again. But it had been much _fewer_ since the HYDRA incident – and that's when, Cap supposed, that Ross must have _really_ started pressuring him, if he wasn't before.

It was wearing Stark down, and like a rock in the ocean, Stark was bound to be pulled in eventually, no matter how hard he dug his heels into the sand and fought.

One day, the current would be too strong.

"Don't let Ross walk over you like this anymore, Tony," He warned, seriously, reaching out and grasping Stark's shoulder, "It won't do any good. At least, not the kind you're hoping for."

"Let me deal with that, will you?" Stark answered, without missing a beat, before turning on his heel and taking out his cell from his pocket again in clear dismissal, "You just go do whatever it is you need to."

Cap gave a mock–salute. "Yes, sir!"

Stark's laughter followed Cap back into the loft.

"What was that?" Wilson demanded, folding his arms and raising a dark brow, "One minute you're at each other's throats, and the next you're all buddy–buddy again? Spill! What happened?"

"Sometimes all you got to do is be there and listen," Cap told him, "You of all people should know that."

"Well, yeah. But still," Wilson said, rubbing the back of his neck and staring over his shoulder at Stark as he and Cap made their way back across the room toward the elevator, _"Weird."_

"You have _no_ idea," Cap answered, "And this was one of his _good_ days."

 _"What?"_

"You sure you want to be an Avenger?" Cap asked, half–jokingly, as the elevator pinged and they stepped in, "Someday you'll have to deal with Tony yourself, you know. _And_ Banner, if he ever shows up."

As Wilson mulled this information over, Cap added, "Keep thinking like that and you'll strain something."

"… Shut up, Steve."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Saturday, November 22** **nd** **2013.**

 **Stark Tower, New York City, USA.**

 **R + D: "Candyland," Floor 18 – 11:02:12 P.M.**

 **400 Days, 1 Hour, 58 Minutes, and 48 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **T** **wo weeks.** _That's how long Banner stayed._

 _Truth be told, Stark was astounded it had lasted so long anyway. He'd expected Banner to disappear within a month or two after Loki's – attempted – alien invasion. In fact, he even joked about it._

Still here, Bruce? _He'd say with a grin,_ Not going to disappear on me today, are you?

Don't worry, _Banner always answered,_ I'm not going anywhere.

 _Until, of course, the day Tony didn't have to ask anymore._

 _Stark hadn't felt the tension shift because he'd just received his first "official" warning from Washington, plus his first official threat from Ross, so he'd been more than just a little shaken. Cap had just left for the night, so Stark rationalized that calling him back was out of the question until morning. He'd been out on the balcony – God, better out there than in a stuffy boardrooms up in D.C. There was no way in hell he was going back into one of those alone again anytime soon, and Banner had evidentially listened in, because he'd instantly spoken up after Stark had finally gotten off the phone._

That sounded pretty bad, _Banner said, looking up as Stark sat back down, across from him,_ You in trouble again?

Yeah. Department of Defense this time, _Stark answered, rubbing his temples,_ But this isn't the first time it's happened. You should have seen what happened after Vanko and Killian... It'll die down, eventually. Hopefully.

Those could have been _avoided,_ remember? _Banner so–helpfully pointed out,_ Thor couldn't.

Yeah, well… Ross hasn't been happy with me ever since I cut off most of my weapons programs in the military after I got back from Afghanistan five years ago. He'll do just about anything to get me in trouble these days.

General Ross? _Stark should have seen it then, the immediate concern,_ Thunderbolt Ross hounds you like that?

 _… But he didn't._

Yep. Old jerk… you'd think a US General like him would have something better to do than calling up one of his old, ex–weapons designers every now and again just to tell him to go to hell, right?

 _Banner paused then, thoughtfully._ But what does he _tell_ you?

Pretty much what every gun–toting, right–wing protester outside the Tower chants every now and then. How evil I am, how much I could be helping people… _At that, Stark's dark eyes flash, though still he smiles (though it doesn't quite reach the rest of his face), ignoring the mounting concern on Banner's face as he added, complacently,_ Don't worry about that, though. I've got too many friends in high places for him to make any real dents.

You're in trouble with him, though?

Bruce, I'm _always_ in trouble when it comes to him. First it was for Stane, then Vanko, and _then_ for Rock of Ages. Hell, I figure by now if Ross even gets a stomachache, he thinks I poisoned him.

And you're not worried? _Banner's voice sounded incredulous, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing._

Not really. _Stark shrugged and shook his head,_ Should I be?

Yes. You should, _By now, Banner had discarded the book he'd been reading to stare at him, brow already twitching with the tension behind it, his voice suddenly cool and grave,_ Tony, does Ross know I'm with you? Does he know I'm here?

Ross isn't the threat here, _Stark answered,_ Why are you worried about him?

Tony, _Banner warned, as he stood up,_ Does he know?

Of course not. _This time, Stark scrambled up to his feet as well, finally sensing what was going on,_ God, Bruce, no one knows you're here except Cap, Pepper, and me, okay?

Are you sure? Bruce didn't look too sure.

Of course I'm sure, _Stark assured him with an only cautious grin,_ You're safe here.

 _That right there should have been the end of it. They should have gone back to work on one of the many projects they'd decided they were going to work on together (the best of them, specifically, being the initial idea for VERONICA, which Stark had just received permission to get some headway on from NASA). Banner should have been able to trust him –_

 _Trust him enough, at least, to not run off the very next morning._

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Updates pending. XD**

 **Is anyone actually enjoying this story?**

 **It looks like I've lost a few people.**


	5. The Runaway

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary to understand what's happening.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name **_"NothingSoSpecial"_** … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes and alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year** **before** "The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers_ _,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 3,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron,"_ **obviously. _  
_**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Five: The Runaway.**

" **Running away was easy. Not knowing what to do** _ **next**_ **was the hard part."**

− **Glenda Millard.**

 **November 3** **rd** **2014; Sunday.**

 **Toronto, Canada.**

 **Exact Location Unknown – 8:14:56 P.M.**

 **54 Days, 4 Hours, 46 Minutes, and 4 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

 **"Y** **o,** **big mean green!** _Answer your cell once in a while, will you?_ _Geez_ _!"_

Bruce Banner's dark brown eyes shifted from the small, frozen–closed window to his cell phone, which lay on the bedside table on the other side of the small room. He got to his feet and crossed the room in long, quick strides and rolled across the lumpy, but neatly–made bed as the message rattles on in Tony Stark's unmistakable, too–confident, cheery draw; letting a small smile broaden across his dark features.

 _"Anyway, I got some headway on our special project,"_ The message chirped as Banner picked up the phone, causing the man's brow to perk in rekindled interest as he sat down on the bed with it, _"Plus I sent some more of S.H.I.E.L.D's – aka HYDRA's – database to you this morning. So if you're anywhere with Internet – and you should be because your phone_ _comes with it_ _, by the way – you really should check it out."_

SHIELD's betrayal had rocked the news all over the world, with his little hideaway here in Ontario being no exception, which is why Banner had already had some inkling of what was going on even before Tony finally got around to calling him. That had been the first (and only) time Banner had honestly even _thought_ about going back to the US since leaving last November – and even then only because of Tony.

The only thing that had stopped him was the (somewhat predictable) influx of US soldier's presence and the increased number of vehicle searches at the Canadian/American boarder the very next day.

 _"… Well, that's it for the news… but I could use an update on_ _you,_ _you know._ _No one's seen you since November, and we're all getting a little worried. So hook me up, will you? Can't do_ _everything_ _myself."_

Banner frowned at those last, almost weary parting words, but he waited until the message clicked off and the screen had gone black before quickly tapping in the five-digit password, making the device light up again, showing off the Stark Industries Tower in a blaze of neon-blue lights over a dark New York skyline.

The cell was one of the newer ones of Tony's own design – and Banner, knowing Stark, figured it was a good thing that he didn't know the exact model type. It was hand–sized, smooth, and fairly thin, and had a terrific battery life that Banner could not help but appreciate. It fit perfectly into his back pocket or in his sweatshirt, and he carried it around with him everywhere, despite feeling uncomfortable and conspicuous the first few times he used it – after that, he'd resolved to use it only when he was alone, away from prying eyes.

Banner had found the "gift" buried in the folds of his carry–on bag the day after he'd left Stark Tower. Tony must have known he'd never accept it, so he'd resorted to hiding it in his bags with a short, rather apologetic-sounding note serving as makeshift wrapping. He'd hidden it so well, in fact, that by the time Banner even got to the safe–house, it had been too late to do anything about it, let alone send it back.

 _ **Banner-**_

 _ **I know you don't do this friend stuff very well, but please don't freak out (or get mad) over this – and try to actually finish reading this note before deciding whether or not you want to keep it. The cell is just for emergencies - and I swear I won't call unless one happens. It also comes with unlimited data and email storage; mostly so you can get all the news or whatever quicker. The account is tied in directly with J.A.R.V.I.S.' private servers in Malibu, so it can't be accessed by anyone working with Stark Industries or be intercepted by anyone, including S.H.I.E.L.D and the DoD. The only other person with access to it is me – and trust me, I won't do that unless it's absolutely necessary.**_

 _ **And remember, you didn't have to leave at all. You've got friends now, Bruce, me and Cap. So if you ever want to come back – whether it be now, next week, month, or even next year, I'll gladly come get you; wherever you end up.**_

 _ **Anyway, good luck, see you soon – and you're welcome.**_

 _ **\- T.S.**_

 _ **P.1.: No, the cell isn't traceable. I made sure.**_

 _ **P.2.: It's also pretty much indestructible. Just in case.**_

 _ **P.3.: Enjoy the** **Times Mag** **subscription.**_

Of course, it helped that Tony had kept his promise of not calling every other day – with this message being at least a week and a half old, at least, having been initially sent to him the 19th. The only constant thing Tony did was blow up his email with S.H.I.E.L.D/HYDRA's files; most of which Banner could never bring himself to read after the first few times – mostly because they ended up angering him to the point that by the time he finished, he had to stay hidden under his blankets in the dark in order to stop himself from losing control.

Banner quickly flipped through the few apps (mainly basic weather, news, and of course the _Times_ app Tony had given him) he had installed to keep up before digging into his emails, which housed only one email address – Tony's, since Barton and Natasha had both been _incommunicado_ since April, doing God only knew what in the wake of S.H.I.E.L.D's betrayal, and Cap – who didn't even have one in the first place.

Boy, they'd picked on the man _relentlessly_ when they found out.

 _Seriously?_ Bruce remembered Tony exclaiming, _You're not on email yet?_

 _Back in my day, we sent letters,_ Cap had answered, not realizing he'd just dug his own grave, _Why?_

 _Why?_ Tony repeated, incredulously, _That's old man stuff, Cap!_

 _And?_

 _Are you absolutely positive you don't belong in a retirement home somewhere? And that you should be living alone, even?_ Tony had egged as Cap glared at him, brow raised, _I know of some good homes near here, and_ _I'm sure you've got more of a chance to get a date in one of those than out here…_

At that one, even Bruce had snorted, much to Tony's delight.

 _See, even Banner agrees with me!_ He'd crowed, _God, Cap. Not even AOL? You look like the AOL type._

 _I've got more important things to do than sitting around on the Internet all day,_ Steve grumbled.

 _And what,_ Tony had brilliantly shot back, _You think_ I _do? 20_ _th_ _century_ _genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist over here, remember? What do you think I even do all day – you know, between saving the world every other month from alien invasions, super–terrorists, and running its greatest tech company?_

 _Come on Tony,_ Bruce finally spoke up when the poor soldier's ears turned red, but couldn't think of a retort (probably because he didn't even know what AOL _was_ at the time), _There's hope for him yet. He's caught up to the 70's so far, and the Internet as we know it didn't exist until the 90's at least, along with email._

Tony had laughed. _What the hell happened in the 70's that was so important, then?_

 _All sorts of things, Tony,_ Cap answered, almost defensively, _There were the first VCRs, and Watergate happened in 1972. Then there was Vietnam, Ted Bundy, and the first Star Wars movie. Then Margaret Thatcher, Mother Theresa, and the first portable radios… oh; and then there was even this really famous singer who died –_

 _– Cap, I swear to God if you say –_

 _– Elvis!_

 _… Son of a bitch._

 _Tony!_ Cap and Banner both chided in unison.

 _Thank you,_ Tony bowed, in his best southern drawl, swooping his bangs back, _Thank you very much!_

Banner chuckled at the memory as he checked through the few stray emails he hadn't gotten to for the past week or two. Since Tony was the only one who emailed him at all, he didn't have to worry about staying on top of them all the time – which was a good thing, considering where he was and how often he moved around. The most recent one, from the 24th, was sitting on top, and Banner was surprised to see that it was labeled _"Misc."_ – which usually meant that it wasn't another update about Cap or HYDRA, which went other another specific name.

 _ **Bruce –**_

 _ **I'm stuck in Malibu for a couple more days. I caught some nasty bug.  
**_

 _ **Incommunicado** **for next couple days, at least - or until Rhodey leaves.**_

 _ **As usual, stay safe. I'll call again in a few days.**_

 _– **T.S.**_

 _ **P.1.: Yes, I'm fine.**_

 _ **P.2.: Wilson and Cap say hi.**_

Banner's brows furrowed in concern, and he bit his lip as he sat up, cell still in hand. Whatever _"bug"_ Tony caught must have been bad – like a trip to the _ER_ bad – because the good physician couldn't see any possible reason that could cause Tony to send him a heads up like this, let alone ever admit he was ill at all.

Could Tony be seriously ill, then? Banner wondered with a shudder – and a rush of guilt. Could it be that bad? Tony had called him with "news" on the 19th, the email had been sent on the 24th and it was November 3rd now. Almost ten days had passed since then. Tony should be well by now if it was just a "bug," right?

 _'You have friends now, Bruce.'_

Before he could change his mind, Banner was on his feet and dialing Stark's number.

The line rang and rang, and for a moment Banner actually thought Stark wouldn't answer (which would have been unbelievably ironic and would royally piss Tony off once he found out) – but fortunately, he turned out to be only half right, considering somebody _did_ answer, though it wasn't Tony himself.

 _Good evening, Dr. Banner. It is good to hear from you again,_ J.A.R.V.I.S' electronic, vaguely English–accented voice said, jolting Banner out of his thoughts, _If this is an emergency call, I can connect you elsewhere._

"It's not, no," Banner answered, quickly, suddenly feeling self–conscious, though he knew the AI wasn't about to get angry at him for how odd and out–of–the–blue he sounded at the moment (a sentiment he hoped Tony would share if he was well enough to speak to him), "I just… I read Tony's email, about being ill?"

 _Tony came down with a fever shortly after arriving home in Malibu on the 28th_ _– and I imagine some of it was a product of overwork, as usual. He refused to rest until it became more serious the night of the 30th_ _. He was hospitalized on the 31st._ The AI reported, sounding bizarrely too-cheerful for what he was talking about as he added, _But you need not be too concerned anymore, Dr. Banner; at least not right at this moment. He has since been confined to bedrest, and Lieutenant Rhodes is here on standby, just in case another visit is in order._

"So he _did_ go to the hospital?" Banner questioned, "I doubt Tony liked that."

 _No, Doctor, in fact he had no choice in the matter at all. Tony refused to wake the morning of the 31st, and I was forced to call emergency services, as he remained unconscious for an inordinate period of time - about twenty-three hours, I believe.  
_

"God," Banner slowly sank back down into his bed again, feeling as though the room had caved in as he went on, quickly, " _God,_ is he all right now? Is he awake? May I speak with him?"

 _I am sure Tony will be pleased to hear you have called, despite these circumstances,_ The AI chirped, and Banner swore he heard approval in the AI's tone at that moment; _I will inform him you are on the line now._

"Thank you, J.A.R. ."

 _Of course, Doctor._

There was a brief pause, a click, and then –

"Banner, what the _fuck?"_

Banner grimaced at how terrible Tony sounded, feeling another sickening rush of guilt. His friend's voice although light, his words were slightly slurred, and they were far too weary and dry for Banner to like.

"Hey, Tony," He said, calmly, hoping to head off any chance of an argument, "I heard about what happened, and I–"

"– Yeah, I know, you're worried. _Everyone_ is," Tony interrupted, "Bruce, seriously. I'm _fine._ Nothing–"

"– Tony, I already know you were _rushed to the_ _ER_ a couple days ago," Banner interrupted, without hesitation, "So don't lie to me and say it's _nothing._ What _happened?"_

"… I was _working,_ Banner. Okay?" Tony finally answered, almost defensively, an edge creeping into his exhausted–sounding voice, "Night and day, almost. You know how it is. Ross is still breathing down my neck and now all that crap that happened with Cap got me in even _more_ trouble. I needed to do _something_ before Ross decided to arrest him."

"Wait, _what_ happened with Cap?" Banner answered in concern, standing up and crossing the room again, this time opening his closet door and pulling out an old duffel bag, "Did I miss something?"

Tony's reply was resigned. "Have you even been reading my emails?"

Banner didn't answer, and Tony sighed after a long moment of silence.

"Bucky Barnes, Cap's buddy?" Tony said, quietly, "The goddamned _Winter Soldier?_ He straight–up murdered the HYDRA agents that Fury and the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D had in _private custody_ since June."

Banner dropped the duffel bag.

 _"Private custody?"_ He croaked, feeling as though a knife had been twisted deep in the pit of his stomach as he stumbled back into a chair, "What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"It _means_ I'm _killing_ Steve when I see him," Tony replied, flatly, and in the background he could hear Tony saying something to J.A.R.V.I.S – but what it was, Bruce didn't quite catch, "I swear to God, Fury _knew_ where those handlers were the whole fucking time. I _told_ Cap he was hiding something days ago! And now _I'm_ the one taking the fall for something that one–eyed son of a bitch could have stopped! And he just _expects_ me to just _drop everything_ help _him_ when _I'm_ one step away from being hauled into military custody? Who the hell does he think he is?"

 _"Easy,_ Tony, slow down," Banner warned, when he heard a groan instead of a reply, "I don't know–"

 _"– Damn it!"_ He heard Tony groan and kick something in the background, and it was then that Banner realized, for the first time, just how much pressure (and pain) the past few months alone had put on his friend's shoulders as Stark added, heatedly, "Do you have _any_ idea what's going on anymore, Bruce? Do you even _care?"_

"Don't start that," Banner warned, though quietly, "Tony, you _know_ I care. But you know why I had to run."

"Banner…" Tony sounded like he wanted to say something, but instead he paused took a deep breath, _"Okay,_ fine, that wasn't fair. I know. And I _don't_ blame you, okay? God, this _sucks."_

"You're telling _me_ ," Bruce answered, mildly, "Tony, I'm sorry for everything you've had to deal with. I know Ross can be relentless – I've had firsthand experience with him, too, remember? It's not easy getting away from once you piss him off. He chased me all over the world for _years_ before I finally shook him off in 2008."

"That was Harlem, wasn't it?" Tony whistled, darkly, "Yeah, I heard about that."

"Don't remind me."

"… _God,_ there's only so much I can do right now, Bruce," Tony continued, obligingly changing the subject, and Banner imagined him slowly sitting down in a chair or lying down as he spoke, since his voice went silent for a few moments before coming back again, "Stane, Vanko, Killian? Okay, maybe I _deserved_ getting my nose rubbed into those. But I'm _not_ responsible for this one - like, at _all_. It's gotten to the point that I _seriously_ think that's what Ross is trying to do – pin everything on _me_ because he can't find Fury."

"Is that what you think, Tony?" Banner questioned in concern, "Is Fury responsible?"

"Hell no," Tony grumbled, "I mean, I _seriously_ hate him right now – and I'm totally never trusting anything he says ever again – but that doesn't mean I want Ross dogging _him_ , too. It's not _his_ fault this happened, at least not fully. If anything, it's that fucker _Peirce's_ fault – but I _do_ think Fury should at least help me clean up. He's a little more responsible for this than _I_ am."

 _God, he just wants help._

The realization was like a kick in the face, and it was so powerful that Banner stood up.

"Tony," He said, shortly, "How much longer are you going to be in Malibu?"

There was a brief pause. "Another _week,_ maybe, if I get cleared by the hospital."

"Then I'll see you in a couple days."

 _"What?"_ That response was almost instant, "Bruce, wait. You don't have to–"

"I _want_ to," Banner interrupted, picking up the duffel again and turning so he could look out the beaten window across the room, where he could see snow starting to build on the windowsill, "You've dealt with all this _alone_ long enough – and I can't _believe_ Cap just left you out there alone after you made yourself sick over it. I would have been back _sooner_ if I'd kept up on the emails."

"I…" Tony's shock hurt, "Bruce, I'd send the jet, but–"

Bruce actually laughed, silencing him.

"Tony, just give me two days."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Yay, Bruce is coming back! XD**

 **BUT is he about to get a little more than he bargained for?**

 **Stay tuned to find out!**


	6. Feverish Games

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary here.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name _"NothingSoSpecial"_ … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes, alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year**_ **before** _"The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers"_ and _"Iron Man 3,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 2,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron._ **Obviously.** _"_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Six: Feverish Games.**

" **A fever is an expression of inner rage."**

– **Julia Roberts.**

 **October 28** **th** **2014, Tuesday.**

 **Stark House, Malibu CA.**

 **Basement, "Lab Zero" – 12:29:24 P.M.**

 **73 Days, 0 Hours, 31 Minutes, 36 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrive.**

 **So the fever was making it hard to sleep.**

Actually, no – strike that.

 _Everything_ was making it hard to sleep right now.

Stark had been in Malibu for less than a day before the headache and fever started. As usual, they were both pretty easy to ignore; he ignored it, just shrugged it off, and kept working through HYDRA's mountain of files. It seemed that every time Stark went through one, it spiraled into about a hundred different directions – as it was; a single document alone took up to _three hours_ to read before he could determine what it was, what it could be used for, which contacts he should send it to, and which of the _seventy–eight_ different files it could be sorted under.

 _You are one step, one screw up, away from being arrested, Stark,_ Ross' words still echoed deep in the weary recesses of Stark's mind, making him rub his temples in a futile attempt to rid himself of them, _You give me a reason,_ any _reason, not to trust you, you and your little freak show will be shut down – permanently._

If he wanted to keep himself, Cap, Wilson, and Banner out of trouble, the General told him, he had to personally go through each and every single file S.H.I.E.L.D had released in April. It was now _his job alone_ to track down all of HYDRA's current bases; figure out who the new leaders were, what their possible plans were, and – if necessary – to help stop them… and God help him if he fucked a _single thing_ up.

General Thunderbolt Ross had made that one _absolutely_ clear, yes sir.

Stark had been completely, utterly (and don't forget _miserably_ ) wrong when he'd told Banner back in November that Ross wasn't a threat – and he was glad, even, that Banner had cut and run when he'd had the chance. Hell, if he'd known what Thunderbolt had in store for him back in November, he might have gone _with_ him.

Ross was not only a pain in the ass, he was an _asshole_ – and Stark was absolutely positive by now that the highly esteemed, _five–star son of a bitch_ was getting a huge, sick kick out of screwing with him like this.

Stark's vision swam oddly when he looked back up into the screen. He slowly stood up, careful to keep a grip on the table as he did so. The dull ache in the back of his head spread instantly throughout the rest of his body as he moved, and his vision pitched dangerously as he crossed the room; throwing him off balance.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, can you hit the – _lights?!"_

The last word came out in a startled, pained shout as Stark stumbled over something large, metallic, and clunky. Almost instantly, the lights flicked on, and Stark realized that he'd tripped over DUM–E, whose long, snakelike head peered over him in what looked remarkably like confusion, beeping at him as he managed to sit up.

"Fuck," He groaned, rubbing his ribs to ease the pain, "Sorry, buddy. That was my fault."

DUM–E beeped at him again, this time in faint concern.

 _Are you all right?_ J.A.R.V.I.S' voice spoke over the intercom as Stark got back to his feet, patting the old bot's head before he continued on his way out of the lab. Thanks to the bright lights, the light–headedness mostly went away, but now his headache worsened, _That looked like it hurt._

"I'm _fine,_ J.A.R.V.I.S," Tony answered, "Just tired, I guess."

 _I will assume that is an understatement, sir,_ J.A.R.V.I.S answered with obvious concern; _My scanners have picked up a fever of approximately 102 Cᵒ. I must insist that you retire as soon as possible._

"Yeah," Stark grumbled, "Soon."

 _Might I suggest a glass of ice water and a light snack before then?_

The mere _mention_ of drinking or eating anything made Stark's stomach heave in on itself. Thank _God_ he wasn't throwing up – it would probably make Ross' day if he found out he'd gotten sick.

"Nope."

 _It has been approximately twenty hours since your last proper meal, sir._

"I swear to God you're sounding more and more like Cap every day," Tony grimaced in distaste before adding, "Speaking of which, have he or birdbrain called or emailed yet?"

 _Not in the past half–hour since you asked._

"What about Fury?"

 _No, sir._

"Ross?"

 _There has been no communication of_ any _kind from_ anyone, _friendly or otherwise, for the past twenty–two hours, sir,_ J.A.R.V.I.S answered, a hint of annoyance clouding his usually pleasant, faint English accent, _Please rest assured that_ _I would have notified you at once had there been._

 _That_ was actually a little surprising. Usually Cap or Wilson would call email at least once or twice a day, just to check in – and since they haven't, Stark hoped (mostly for his sake) that it meant that they were busy kicking the crap out of some HYDRA goon right now. Then there was Ross, who didn't like to leave Stark alone for more than a couple hours at a time (probably because he figured that sooner or later Stark would call his bosses up in D.C. and report him for harassment if he didn't threaten him every so often); and of course Banner –

Though at the moment, Stark wasn't putting too much stock in getting _that_ call anytime soon.

"Right," Stark expertly ignored the exasperation in the AI's voice, "Thank God for that, huh, J.A.R.V.I.S?"

 _I must really insist at this point that you at least drink water if you're refusing to sleep. You are already dehydrated, and the fever is only going to make it worse._

"What is it now?"

 _Approximately 102 Cᵒ, sir, but it's been rising steadily over the past half–hour. If it reaches or passes 103 Cᵒ, then there is a possibility that you may begin having hallucinations, seizures, or other extremely unpleasant side–effects._

"Yeah, yeah," Stark retorted, as he made his way to the kitchen, "You're worse than Cap, J.A.R.V.I.S."

 _I do believe that is the fever talking, sir._

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 29** **th** **2014, Wednesday.**

 **Stark House, Malibu CA.**

 **2** **nd** **Floor, Master Bedroom – 5:12:19 A.M.**

 **73 Days, 19 Hours, 48 Minutes, 41 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **E** _ **veryone**_ **hates getting sick, and Tony Stark definitely wasn't an exception.**

Usually because when he got sick, he got _sick._

Like _"wake up at 3 o'clock in the morning heaving your guts out"_ sick.

Stark had known it was coming right after he'd grudgingly eaten the jelly sandwich and drank the glass of ice–water to wash it down. The full stomach definitely helped him sleep – and thank God he hadn't had the stomach to eat anything else; the leftover pizza or Chinese food he'd considered probably would have made it even worse. As it was, Stark spent almost an hour bowled over in the restroom. He'd managed to fall asleep there, too, afterwards; huddled up against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest and arms folded around himself.

 _Sir?_ J.A.R.V.I.S informed him quietly, waking him at about 5; _General Ross is on the line._

 _Fuck that,_ Stark thought, _Not happening, Ross._

"Tell him to go to hell."

 _Is that wise?_

"Shut up, J.A.R.V.I.S."

After that, J.A.R.V.I.S had pretty much left him in peace. He knew how touchy Stark could be when he got sick like this – thankfully, though, it only happened once or twice every year. Last time it happened was right after Killian; the fever and vomiting, the whole thing.

He'd been stuck in the house for a week feeling like hell, unable to work at all.

Unfortunately, something about this time was _different,_ though.

The other times he'd gotten sick, at least he'd been able to sleep it off, for the most part. He'd been able to hide under his blankets and wait it out; take meds to kill the headache, crank up the heater or the AC as he saw fit when the chills or hot flashes came, and eat and drink enough to stay comfortably full (and with few, if any, repercussions). This time, however, with whatever the hell he'd caught this time, there was none of that.

First, it hurt to move – hurt _everywhere,_ actually. It felt like someone was stabbing him every time he even _breathed,_ let alone anything else, so he ended up spending most of the morning on the restroom floor. Second, he couldn't tell if he were hot or cold; so even if he wanted to call out for J.A.R.V.I.S, he couldn't. Each time he moved, his body broke out in cold sweat and violent shivers – but less than a few moments later, he was burning, tearing madly at the old white undershirt he wore, just to be cold again soon after.

Worst of all, his head felt light and heavy at the same time.

God, it hurt just to _think._

So he tried not to.

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 29th 2014, Wednesday.**

 **Stark House, Malibu CA.**

 **1st Floor, Hooded Balcony – 11:42:24 A.M.**

 **73 Days, 13 Hours, 18 Minutes, 36 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **"C** **hrist, Tony, you look like hell."**

"Thanks, Rhodey."

"No, seriously, man," _Rhodes answered, leaning over his shoulder and peeking gingerly into Stark's dark, feverish eyes, thin brows furrowing in instant concern as he added,_ "Should I be taking you to the hospital right now?"

That's an excellent idea, Colonel Rhodes, _J.A.R.V.I.S piped up._

"Shut up, J.A.R.V.I.S," _Tony shot back into empty air before looking up at his friend_ , "You can try."

"No offense, Tony, but I think I can take you."

"Probably."

 _Rhodes planted himself next to Stark and folded his arms._

"How long have you been sitting out here, man?"

 _Tony grimaced and shook his head, burying his head back into his arms, which rested on top of his curled knees. Honestly, he didn't remember how he even ended up out here. He vaguely remembered getting up out of the restroom and stumbling around for a while; but after that, the memories started blurring together._

Approximately three hours and counting.

"God, Tony," _Rhodes said, after a long pause,_ "No wonder you blew off Ross this morning."

 _Tony didn't even remember he'd called._

"Right, he's your boss," _Tony grumbled, quietly,_ "Remind me why I like you again?"

 _Rhodes snorted to humor him, but the mirth doesn't make it to his eyes, which remained vigilant and anxious. Instead, he reached out and touched Stark's shoulder, quickly snatching it back again when Stark recoiled, as though his nerves were on fire._

"Damn it," _He said, getting quickly to his feet,_ "That's it. I'm taking you to the hospital."

 _Stark doesn't even move._

"Tony, seriously; let's go," _Rhodes insisted, kneeling down,_ "I'm not playing with you. I'll call Cap."

 _Stark flipped him off._

"Bruce?" _He tried,_ "Pepper?"

 _He got another bird._

 _"I'm_ coming back Friday morning, then," _Rhodes sighed as he looked at his watch and realized he was already late before turning a stern gaze to his friend,_ "And Tony, I swear to God that if you're not at least _talking_ to me by then, you're going _straight_ to the hospital, even if I've got to bring out the _Iron Patriot_ to drag you there myself."

 _He gets up and leaves once it's clear Stark wasn't about to answer him anytime soon._

 _But in less than twenty–four hours, Colonel Jim Rhodes would come to seriously regret his decision._

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 29th 2014, Wednesday.**

 **Stark House, Malibu CA.**

 **2** **nd** **Floor, Master Bedroom – 1:09:40 A.M.**

 **73 Days, 11 Hours, 41 Minutes, 20 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **H** **e somehow made it back to the bedroom sometime after noon, an hour after Rhodes finally left.**

Luckily, he hadn't vomited since that morning – and since he hadn't eaten or drank anything since last night, Stark felt reasonably safe. He crawled into bed and threw the blankets over himself, his body growing still almost immediately under the cool sheets.

"J.A.R.V.I.S?" He mumbled, already closing his eyes, "Wake me in a few hours."

 _I think I can do better than that, sir,_ J.A.R.V.I.S answered, cryptically, but by this point the AI's words simply went in one ear and out the other, for all the good they did, _Sleep well._

… Just as sleep mercifully came upon him, he felt an odd, rising, falling sensation…

 _ **And then he was gone.**_

… _**There's only pain now – searing, blinding hot pain. He can't breathe …**_

 _Sir?_ A familiar voice calls from the darkness, reaching out for him… _Sir?_

 _ **But it's too far way. It can't reach, can't take him back.**_

…

 _If you can hear me, say something!_

… _**He hears screaming. But who, where is it coming from? …**_

 _Tony!_

… _**More screaming. More pain. Breathe almost impossible now; there's no air left.**_

 _I am taking preemptive, emergency measures!_

… _ **Is it**_ **him?** _ **Is**_ **he** _ **screaming like that? …**_

 _Hang on… just hang on, Tony… please hang on._

 _ **… There are sirens, thundering footsteps, doors slamming open, and then shouting …**_

 _Help is coming..._

…

… _**A voice above the others, lashing out like a whip toward the crushing dark. …**_

 _"Hang on!"_

… _**But it's not strong enough.**_

 _ **The blackness closes in again anyway, for good this time.**_

 _ **And then there's nothing. …**_

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Uh, oh. That's not good, is it? XD**

 **Let's hope he comes out of this okay, shall we?**


	7. Cold Calls & Cooler Comforts

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary here.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name _"NothingSoSpecial"_ … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes, alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year**_ **before** _"The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers"_ and _"Iron Man 3,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 2,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron._ **Obviously.** _"_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Seven: Cold Calls & Cooler Comforts.**

" **You got to be careful on the phone. You leave yourself wide open."  
** **Bono.**

 **October 30th 2014, Thursday.**

 **Brooklyn, New York, USA.**

 **Handy Apartments, Room 19 A – 5:11:09 P.M.**

 **58 Days, 7 Hours, 49 Minutes, and 51 Seconds until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **"S** **teve.** **"**

It's the odd, tense tone in Wilson's voice that instantly grabs Cap's attention, rather than his name, and he looks over his shoulder, frowning as the former counselor comes into the living room. He's holding Cap's cell to his ear rather than his own, and Cap realizes for the first time he must have forgotten it somewhere again.

"What is it?" Cap asked in alarm as he got to his feet and quickly crossed the room, "Wilson, What−?"

"− Is he going to be _okay,_ though?" Sam asked, abruptly, much to Steve's alarm, into the phone, putting up a hand to silence his companion, "… Thank God. Okay… yeah, he is – okay, sure… Here."

"Steve," Sam repeated, holding out the phone at last, "Here, you really want to hear this, man."

Cap took the phone without replying.

"Hello?" He asked into it, keeping his eyes on Wilson's as he added, "This is Steve Rogers. Who is this?"

 _"Yes, hello, Mr. Rogers,"_ An oddly pleasant, slightly accented voice on the other line chirped, _"This is Dr. Julian J. Grey, calling from Malibu General Hospital? I've been asked to call you on behalf of Tony Stark."_

 _Hospital?_ Something in the pit of Cap's stomach dropped, _What the hell is this?_

"Tony?" He replied, blankly.

 _"That's right,"_ Grey answered, kindly, as though he thought that Cap was a small child that he had to placate, _"There was an incident late last night that resulted in your friend being placed into my care. He wanted me to let you know now that he's okay; probably before the_ paparazzo _makes it sound worse than we think it is."_

"Tony," Cap repeated, slowly, stumbling back against the wall in shock with the realization as Wilson backed away, adding in a tone louder, harsher tone than he meant to, "He's in the _hospital?_ What happened?"

 _"Your friend's AI – I think Stark said his name was 'J.A.R.V.I.S;' what a spectacular invention he is – called emergency services when Mr. Stark began having seizures,"_ Grey reported, his voice growing grave as he continued, _"My team arrived on the scene within ten minutes and, with J.A.R.V.I.S.' help, we were eventually able to stabilize him. Stark was admitted to the ER with a fever of approximately 104.5 C_ _ᵒ_ _, at 11:20 P.M. Pacific Time."_

"God," Cap said, slowly, looking up at Wilson, "Sam, he was sick the whole time, and I never… I thought…"

"You didn't know, man," Wilson began, cautiously, "There's no way you could have –"

"– _Hello?"_ Grey's voice cut Wilson off, _"Mr. Rogers, are you still there?"_

"Yes," Cap answered, quickly, "I'm still here, Dr. Grey. Is he all right? Tony, I mean?"

" _I won't lie, it was a close; a temperature like that. I'm surprised we weren't called any sooner, and by the time we did reach him, he was already unconscious and seriously dehydrated – the AI told us he'd been refusing to eat or drink anything for two full days before falling unconscious and seizing,"_ Grey answered, carefully, deliberately keeping his voice slow, _"Luckily, we were able to remedy that while in the ER, intravenously. Since then, his temperature has fallen to about 102 C_ _ᵒ_ _."_

 _God, Tony, C_ ap thought, his brows furrowing in concern again, _Why didn't you say something?_

"What about now?" Cap asked.

" _Now I'm happy to report that your friend is asleep in the recovery unit,"_ Grey answered, his voice regaining its chirpy bounce now that the worst of the report was evidently over, _"Tony awakened the first time only an hour ago, but the first thing he asked me to do was to make sure his friends knew he was all right."_

"And… and his recovery? He'll be okay, right?"

 _"I expect he will be, given enough time. Of course, how long it will actually take will be totally dependent on whether or not he decides to follow the health procedures and diet suggestions I'm working on,"_ At this, Grey paused, and Cap heard a ghost of a chuckle as he explained, _"… Though I've heard_ that _might be a problem later on."_

"Knowing Tony, maybe," Cap answered, "But you said he's asleep now, right?"

 _"That's correct,"_ Grey affirmed, _"Shall I call again if there are any changes to his condition?"_

"I − yes, of course," Cap agreed, "Thank you for calling and letting me know, Dr. Grey."

 _"You're welcome,"_ Another pause, _"Have a good day, Mr. Rogers."_

 _Click._

Cap let his hand fall when it became clear that Dr. Grey had hung up. He and Wilson stared at each other for a beat of silence before Cap slowly drew a hand through his golden blonde hair.

"I am a terrible friend," He said, simply, to break the silence, "He was sick and I didn't even notice."

"No, you're not, Cap," Wilson insisted at once, his old counselor's voice kicking back in as he leaned and peered into his friend's eyes with a small smile, "Listen, just _breathe,_ okay?You heard Grey, Tony's going to be okay."

"What if he _hadn't_ been?" Cap challenged, as he pushed his way past Wilson and into the kitchen, putting down the cell on the kitchen table and turning back and demanding, "What if he _hadn't_ made it? What if he'd _died?_ He had a fever of _104_ – do you have any idea how _bad_ that is?"

"First off, you're talking _what if's_ again; which you know I can't answer because it _didn't happen_ ," Wilson answered, defiantly, folding his arms, "Second of all, yes; actually I do. I probably know what that means better than _you_ , because I know for afact _your_ medical expertise doesn't get past the '40s."

 _That_ was actually a pretty ballsy thing to say, all things considered, and it was a battle between cool, steely grey and endless dark eyes as Cap and Wilson stared at each other; Cap with his fists on the table, jaw set in anger, and Wilson's crossed over his chest, heavy brow calmly raised.

And for a long time, neither said a word.

If it hadn't been for Cap's cell going off a few minutes later, the two men probably would have stayed standing there for a long time, had the tension not lead to blows. After throwing a terrible look at Wilson, Cap grabbed it and, raising a brow at the unknown number, answered it after a split−seconds' pause.

"This is Rogers." He said, rather crossly, into the phone, "Who is this?"

 _"Well look who finally got a phone. Long time no see, Rogers."_ The all−familiar, snake−smooth accent made Cap's blood chill and he snaps his head back up to Wilson, eyes narrowing, as the voice he'd long since stopped trusting added, as though he hadn't been missing since April, _"How's the search going?"_

It was Fury.

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 30th 2014, Thursday.**

 **Malibu City General Hospital, Malibu CA.**

 **Recovery Care Unit, Floor 4, Room #408 – 1:58:56 P.M.**

 **58 Days, 11 Hours, 2 Minutes, and 4 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrive.**

 **T** **he world doesn't come back kindly for Tony Stark.** _In fact, it comes back slowly, almost painfully so. Luckily, however, it's dim enough in the room he wakes in that he isn't instantly blinded by light as soon as he opens his eyes; and what little there is streamed through a billowy white curtain that blocks out the worst of it. Stark's limbs feel heavy and limp, and moving alone ignites the dull ache in the back of his head. He grimaces, and swears thickly, past a dry mouth and parched lips._

"Easy," _A kind, though stern voice said, suddenly, stopping Stark from any further moment by placing a strong, warm hand over his chest and pressing down, gently pushing him back down into the pillows,_ " _Easy_ now,Tony. Here, drink this..."

 _Something cool, cylindrical, and metallic is slid into his shaking hands, and pushed upward to his mouth. Stark, weakened from fever and God knew what else by now, barely resists, and when he realizes it's just water, he swallows, obliged to drink it all to ease the burning in the back of his throat. When it's finished, the cup is taken away again, and Stark distantly hears the familiar sound of metal hitting metal, and he starts to get up again, only to be stopped at once, once more._

"Sorry, don't get up yet." _Then,_ "There, that's not so bad, is it?"

 _The drink sharpened his vision and made most of the pain go away, so the man's words are clearer now. When Stark turns his head toward it, he is greeted by an unfamiliar, blurry face, glinting with some sort of silver, leaning in towards him. His eyes haven't adjusted to his surroundings, all bright and clean, so he has to squint – but even then the doctor's (if that's what he was) face remained blurry and unfocused, barring Stark from getting a full glimpse of his new companion anytime soon._

"I _can_ call you that, right?" _The man asked, with a smile, and a casual shrug of thin shoulders covered in a loose, spotless white physician's coat,_ "You can say 'yes' or 'no' − and I you, I promise I won't be offended if you say 'no,' okay?"

"Yes." _His voice is soft, weak, and barely audible even to his own ears, but the doctor seemed pleased with it anyway._

"Perfect," _His smile broadened as he get up so he could look Stark in the eyes, blocking out the light as he stood, revealing himself to be a surprisingly normal−looking, middle−aged man; with dark brown eyes hiding behind thick−lensed glasses, unevenly tanned skin, and a head of dark grey hair, which framed his head and trailed into a long braid down his shoulder,_ "Boy, you gave us quite a fright for a while there, Tony, but you pulled through in the end, and I guess that's what's important. You're a tough guy – managed to impress my coworkers, even, and that's a hard thing to do. But not a lot of people can handle seizures and a 104 C˚ fever at the same time, either. Of course, not a lot of med crews get an AI to help, either."

Stark's brow furrowed at that. _J.A.R.V.I.S._

"Called 9−1−1, huh, J.A.R.V.I.S?" _Stark mumbled, half–sarcastically,_ "Good job, buddy."

"Is that it's name?" _The physician asked,_ "The AI?"

"His," _Stark corrected, instantly, looking back over at the physician,_ "His name. Yeah."

"I see," _The man nodded and smiled again,_ "I'll remember that. Now, Tony, where do you suppose we are?"

 _The odd question startled Stark enough to make him look around for the first time._

"We're in the hospital," _He said, taking in the linin curtains,_ "No, _I'm_ in the hospital."

"Right again. Good to see that fever didn't fry your brain," _The physician chuckled – much to Stark's amusement – before turning and moving the chair aside, against the wall, so he could stand freely next to the bed again, with Stark warily watching his movements, the entire time, eyes narrowing in suspicion as the physician turned his back on him once more,_ "Yes, you're in Malibu City General Hospital. My name is Julian J. Grey, and while I'm afraid that I don't hold as many doctorates as you, I'd wager an M.D. from Harvard University might satisfy you for now?"

 _Stark snorted at the doctor's nerve and let his shoulders relax,_ "I hope so."

 _Thank God this guy's funny,_ He thought in relief, _I know too many cold−face jerks…_

"I'm glad you agree." _Julian Grey answered, interrupting his thought_ , "You won't believe how many people I get who don't believe I actually graduated from there until I show them my certificate. I bet some people think I'm just some crazy old man from the Stone Ages, just because of my hair.

"How old _are_ you, then?" _Stark asked, as Julian picked up the chart that lay on the bedside rollaway table with an empty glass. And flipped through a few pages,_ "Don't tell me you're an assistant?"

" _Ha!_ Thirty years ago, maybe," _The physician looked over at him and winked_ , "Let me give you an idea, kiddo: I'm the guy your dad probably called back in the day when he wanted to get rid of his hangover."

 _Stark snorted again as Dr. Grey set the clipboard down again and turned back to face him._

"As much as I'd like to set you free, I think another day or two here will help, since you're still scoring a little lower on the hydration scale than I'd like," _He told him, shrugging apologetically,_ "Plus, your fever is still hovering up around 100 C˚, and I can't have you running off until it goes back to normal."

"So I'm stuck here, then?" _Tony added, without much disappointment (mostly because he'd expected it)_ , "Taking the Hippocratic Oath seriously, Dr. Harvard M.D.?"

"Not really, no," _Grey shrugged again and smirked as he opened up the curtains, letting the light flood into the otherwise dim room at last, bathing it in soft evening light,_ _and allowing Stark's eyes to adjust a little better,_ "Nothing so noble. I've just got this terribly, _terribly_ underappreciated superpower."

"Oh, yeah?" _Stark peaked a brow in interest,_ "What's it called?"

"Common sense, Tony," _Grey answered, tapping his forehead twice before looking over his shoulder at the door and placing one hand on his hip,_ "Plain old common sense. And a class or two of psych back in school helped. Now, speaking of which, it's almost time for me to go check on my cohorts. I don't like to leave them alone for too long –"

"– Hey."

 _Grey looked back over at him, brows raised, caught off guard by the outburst,_ "Yes?"

"Think I could call someone?" _Stark asked, finally managing to sit all the way up without the doctor's protest,_ "If anyone has a semi–upgraded phone in this place, I can probably get –"

"Consider it done," _Grey interrupted,_ "Your AI gave me a list of people to notify earlier this evening."

 _What the hell, J.A.R.V.I.S?_

"Great," _Stark paused,_ "Thanks?"

"Don't thank me. My goal is to make sure you rest as much as possible before you inevitably get up and wander off again, after all," _Grey answered, voice growing solemn again, dark brown eyes flashing as he turned back to face him,_ "You've got quite a reputation, Tony, and I'm afraid it's not just for your smarts – you've been known to neglect yourself as much as you help others. Now, I'm afraid, as you're my patient now; it's your turn to be helped."

 _Stricken and open–mouthed in shock, Stark watched the doctor make his way across the room. He opens the door, but pauses just as he puts one foot out the door and looks back at him._

"And Tony, try not to wander off, will you? I'd hate to have to go looking for you," _Grey added, with one last grin before closing the door with a sharp snap,_ "I'll be back within the next half–hour to check on you."

 _Stark flopped back onto his back and sighed, rubbing his eyes._

"Classic, J.A.R.V.I.S," _He murmured, a soft, though genuine smile tracing his tired face as he closed his eyes,_ "Out of all of the doctors you choose from, you stick me with the one smartass with the balls to stand up to me. Fantastic."

 **N._.s._.S**


	8. End of the Line I

**Avengers: The King of Hearts.**

 **Summary:** _"There's no "I" in "team" … and that's probably for a really good reason."_ It seems that nothing's been sitting well with the Avengers these days. After a year without Thor since his disastrous fight-n'-flight in London, Rodgers and his new birdman pal out looking for a ghost that may very well just be that, Banner's abrupt disappearance, Barton and Natasha AWOL, and Stark still reeling from S.H.E.I.L.D's unprecedented _("but still totally expected")_ betrayal, none of them are prepared for what's coming… _or for what's already here._ HYDRA, in all its dying glory, isn't quite ready to call it quits yet, and they're about to get up close and personal _(again)_ when Cap accidentally brings more than a ghost story home – starting with a very literal "bang" that just might catch _everyone's_ attention. But with the clock still ticking, and with a dark and very personal secret looming over their heads; it's going to take a whole lot more than plain old _"teamwork"_ to save the world this time... in fact, when it's all said and done, they may just turn around and find it had already ended while their backs were turned.

 **Warning:** This story is part of a **main three-part series** called _"The Kings Trilogy,"_ and while it is **highly recommended** that you **go and read those first** , **it's** **not absolutely necessary here.** You can read **all three** on Fanfiction **or** AO3 – whatever floats your boat – under the name _"NothingSoSpecial"_ … **or not.** Anyway, this story will be **Rated "T"** for: **Violence, language, depression, suicidal thoughts/actions, and references to mental/emotional/physical torture, PTSD, mild sexual themes, alcohol use, and other mature themes.** Also: **keep in mind that this story takes place** _ **one year**_ **after** _"Thor: The Dark World,"_ **and** _"The King of Nothing,"_ _**during**_ **the events of** _"The King of Everything,"_ **and** _ **one year**_ **before** _"The King of Kings."_ **It also takes place roughly two years after** _"Avengers"_ and _"Iron Man 3,"_ **a year and a half after** _"Iron Man 2,"_ **and six months after** _"Captain America: The Winter Soldier"_ … **and** _ **before**_ **of** _"Age of Ultron_ **.** _"_

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers or any supporting characters. Don't ruin my day and think I do.**

 **Author's Note: This story is dedicated to TheFGnat. Congratulations!**

 **N._.s._.S**

 **Chapter Eight: End of the Line I.**

 **"Doesn't matter if you believe in ghosts or not. If they're there, they're there."**

− **Joan Lowery Nixon.**

 **October 30** **th** **, 2014, Saturday.**

 **Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean.**

 **Exact Location Unknown: The Hellicarrier, Main Floor – 8:23:45 P.M.**

 **58 Days, 14 Hours, 37 Minutes, 15 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

" **G** **ive me** _ **one**_ **good reason why I should trust you on this, Fury."**

"Because if it weren't for me, you'd still be sitting in Brooklyn without a clue."

Cap set his jaw and shot Fury his best glare.

"With Stark in the hospital, we don't have a lot of time until Ross catches onto what's happening," Fury said with his usual calm, apparently unperturbed by Cap's anger, "So if you want a clear shot at the Winter Soldier, this is it. I can't guarantee that there will be any more chances after this."

"How did you know Stark was down?" Wilson piped up from across the table.

"I've got eyes everywhere," Fury answered, tapping the side of his head, "Stark's showdown with Ross is old news – and so is his visit to the ER. I had people on the ground before his AI even decided to call."

"Tony is _not_ going to be happy once he finds out," Wilson retorted, "You _do_ know he hates you, right?"

 _"Hate's_ a strong word, don't you think?" A slightly−amused voice piped up, distantly, and the three men turned to find Natasha Romanov standing at the helm. Beside her, his eyes on the cell phone in his hand, was Clint Barton, clad in a dark suit of armored leather and new, tinted sunglasses.

"Long time no see," Cap said, and Barton looked up, smirking.

"Hey yourself, Cap," He said, casually, as the two crossed the room and sat down at the table with them, Barton immediately swinging his legs comfortably over the arms and going back to whatever he was working on from his phone, adding, "Sorry about D.C. You guys really had your hands full without me this time, huh?"

"Don't start," Cap waved him off with a smile shrug, "I'm sure you had something else−"

 _"– Seriously,"_ Wilson interrupted, sharply, causing Cap to look over at him, brows furrowing a little as the dark−eyed man added in exasperation, "Does _no one_ care how pissed Tony's going to be about all this?"

"Tony will be _fine_ ," Cap assured him, despite the prang of guilt he felt at how easily he said it, especially of how he'd gone off on Wilson about Stark in the first place just a couple hours ago, "Besides, after this, we can finally get Ross off his back. I'm sure he'll be more _relieved_ than angry by the time we get back."

"Yeah," Wilson shot back, darkly, sitting back in his seat and looking down at the Falcon Wing in his lap, dark brows furrowing in clear concern, "Right."

"You don't have to do this, Wilson," Cap reminded him, pointedly, "You _volunteered."_

"I volunteered to _help_ you, and that's what I'm trying to do. It's just I think we should give Tony a heads up before we actually do this," Wilson argued, standing and putting the backpack in the table with a loud thump, "He sent himself to the ER watching our backs, remember? We should at _least_ tell him it wasn't for nothing."

"No one's telling Stark _anything_ ," Fury spoke up, firmly, before Cap could reply.

"What?" Wilson demanded, turning to Fury; looking both surprised and angry at the same time, "Why? Man, do you have _any_ idea what Stark's been through for us?"

"If we want a chance at stopping the Winter Soldier, we need to keep this under wraps," Fury shot back, clearly not about to broach the subject further because he cut through whatever retort Wilson had by adding, "Besides, Stark knew what he was getting himself into the moment he stole those files from S.H.I.E.L.D's database two years ago. And General Ross has been waiting for an excuse to drag Tony through the mud since he snubbed the Supreme Court in 2010. All Killian, Loki, and Thor did was give him a better reason to."

"Just how _are_ we going to do that, Fury?" Cap cut in, again before Wilson could say anything, "You only told us where were supposed to meet you; not where we were actually going or what we were doing."

"We're _going,"_ Fury continued, shooting Cap a withering one−eyed glare, "To a S.H.I.E.L.D base in Vermont. The last of its kind in the world. We have the handlers there."

There was a beat of stunned silence, then –

"… Protective custody, right?" Wilson sighed, "Yeah, of _course_."

Cap glanced at Nat, concerned. But she didn't seem surprised at all – and he was willing to bet she wasn't, since she was, after all, the one who released the S.H.I.E.L.D. files back in April. Barton obviously wasn't too concerned about this particular revelation, either, considering he still didn't even look up from his phone. After another minute or two of silence, Wilson just sat back down, rubbing his eyes.

"Exactly," Fury answered, without pause, "The last thing the UN wanted was to have the best assassin in the world using one of their maximum securities as a hunting ground. So they turned to us. They handed them over to S.H. .D as 'detainees' back in July. Not even _the President of the United States_ knows they're here yet."

"Then how do you expect _he_ does?" Wilson demanded.

"Haven't you heard? The Winter Soldier was – no, strike that − _is_ the greatest assassin theworld," Barton demanded, bluntly, looking over at Wilson with an arched brow, "There's a reason Peirce and the handlers called him an _'asset'_ instead of just a _'weapon.'_ From what I've heard, the guy was some kind of emotionless killing machine when HYDRA had him. Now if he wants someone dead himself, as _James Buchanan Barnes_ , it's fair to say that he'll probably be even _more_ dangerous, since it's _him_ pulling the strings instead of−"

"He said he wanted to _fix_ this, not make it _worse_ ," Cap interrupted, loudly, causing all eyes to shift to him, "When I met him at the Smithsonian, that's what he said. _'I am going to fix this.'_ He isn't going on a rampage. He wants the handlers. No one else is in any danger. He won't attack anyone else."

… _Came to find you, to say that you are not my mission anymore._

 _But the handlers, they can be. And now, I think they are._

"We can't very well _le_ t him kill the handlers, either, Rogers," Fury retorted at once, one dark eye narrowing dangerously, "Not only are they under the protection of S.H.I.E.L.D, not to mention the people who busted their asses handing them over to us; if Ross finds out they were ever even here without his knowledge, Tony will be damned lucky to get out of that hospital after what Ross does to him."

"He won't blame Tony," Cap replied, " _Tony_ has nothing to do with−"

"Ross _knows_ he can't blame Fury," Barton interrupted, darkly, "And he also knows he can't blame _S.H.I.E.L.D_ thanks to what Nat did in April. All our information _is_ out there; Ross just missed it. The Vermont hideout is sitting out there, too, along with the information on the handlers. Ross will blame Stark because _Stark_ was the guy he forced to read through all of it. _Stark_ was the guy who was supposed to know. And he didn't."

"Because he sent himself to the _hospital_ for all Ross' bull!" Wilson snapped, folding his arms, losing patience, "We _can't_ let Stark take the blame for this one. He was having _seizures_ , for God's sake! _And_ a fever of 104! We either send the handlers back to wherever the hell they came from, or we tell Ross what's up."

" _Neither_ of those are an option, Wilson," Nat declared, quietly, before anyone could round on Wilson again, "We can't open up the UN to an attack by the Winter Soldier by sending the handlers back. We also can't risk scaring him off by alerting the highest−ranking military General on US soil that the handlers are here. If that happened, we'd have a standoff between us, Ross, the assassin, and innocent people, too."

"I can _talk_ Bucky down," Cap insisted, "No one else has to get hurt. He'll listen to me."

"Because that worked so well over the Potomac, didn't it?" Fury pointed out.

" _And_ at the Smithsonian," Wilson added, helpfully, causing Cap to shoot him a glare.

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 30** **th** **2014.**

 **S.H.I.E.L.D Detainment & Questioning Center, Vermont USA.**

 **Command Floor – 9:10:35 P.M.**

 **58 Days, 3 Hours, 50 Minutes, 25 Seconds Until the Black Hunt Arrives.**

 **O** **fficially, according to the good citizens of the small, suburban, forested city of River Valley, Vermont; the** _ **S.H.I.E.L.D Detainment & Questioning Center**_ **shut down after the revelations of HYDRA decimated its ranks in April.** Unofficially, though, the base had actually been selected soon _after_ to remain operational, mostly for its quiet and secluded location that (usually) discouraged visitors and thrill−seekers. It was a relatively small facility, with only a couple floors, but it was well−armed and guarded night and day by the few remaining patrons.

It was this location S.H.I.E.L.D. selected to "detain" the four remaining handlers of the Winter Soldier, who were handed over to _"D &E"_ on the request of the UN in May, after being captured in D.C. in late April.

To get to D&Q, you had to catch a special, inconspicuous transport up to the foot of Ellen Mountain, which was elevated by approximately 4,000 feet, which is what Cap's little group did after landing the Hellicarrier in a large, mostly−deserted airfield approximately two hours away from the small "loading town." They then spent another hour heading up the mountain itself, before veering into another, slightly flatter valley.

"Did you know," Nat had said, turning to Wilson, "That this part of the range is called _Stark Valley?"_

Wilson frowned and rolled his eyes, but Cap and Barton both snorted.

D&Q itself was, surprisingly enough for a detention facility of its caliber, was light and airy – if anything, and it reminded Cap more of Stark's home in Malibu than it did of a jail. It was painted white and had large, open windows, and to him, seemed like any old eccentric mansion; and he wouldn't be surprised if Stark (knowingly or not) had contributed to its design in some way or another.

Plus, there were no fences or boarders Cap could see.

"No fence?" He asked, and Barton shook his head.

"Free−range detainment facilities," He answered, tonelessly, "Curtsey of the UN."

Cap didn't understand what _that_ meant, but Wilson evidentially did, because he looked over at Fury.

"Man, what kind of place is this?" He demanded, suspiciously.

"Don't worry," Fury answered, apparently unperturbed, "You'll see. Let's go meet the detainees."

 **N._.s._.S**

 **October 30** **th** **2014.**

 **S.H.I.E.L.D Detainment & Questioning Center, Vermont USA.**

 **Detainment Floor #2 – 9:55:29 P.M.**

 **58 Days, 3 Hours, 5 Minutes, 31 Seconds until the Black Hunt's Arrival.**

" **H** **ail, HYDRA!"**

Cap and Wilson both jumped at the echoing shout, followed by a couple stomping feet as they entered the house – which looked surprisingly normal, considering the circumstances. If Cap hadn't known better, as they went up the staircase leading to the next floor, he'd think he was visiting the Loft of Stark Tower, not heading into one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most important, not to mention dangerous, detainment centers.

Sitting on an old couch reading a spiral, leather–bound booklet was a tall, very thin bald man wearing a plain black T−shirt and jeans. He wore a large, electric tracking collar on his right wrist, but that didn't seem to stop him from looking over at Cap with ice−blue eyes as they passed and smirking haughtily at him.

" _Chert_ _American,"_ He said, "Damn American."

Cap could have punched him for that alone if Barton hadn't spoken first.

"That's Artur Burtram, and _'Hail HYDRA'_ is about all the English he knows – well, beyond the occasional _'fuck you,'_ I mean." Barton reported, coolly, in a hushed undertone as the small group approached another door, leaving Burtram behind, "Burtram's fifty−six years old, a HYDRA spy for most, and we think his granddad might have been one of your buddy's first handlers, since his name's on all the registers since the 50's."

"Charges?" Wilson asked, with a split−second, concerned glance over his shoulder at Cap.

"Everything from racketeering to arms dealing and cold−blooded murder. The usual HYDRA list," Nat answered for him, "He's a real piece of work, but small change compared to the next two."

And Cap actually recognized who they encountered in the next room.

Claude and Jean Viktor were two of the handlers Cap had interviewed personally in April, just weeks after the D.C. incident and days after their capture by American troops at an Atlantic sea liner. They were brothers, presumably recruited first as spies in the '70s and then by HYDRA some years later. They both looked up when Cap and the others entered their room; which was smaller than Burtam's. It didn't have any furniture at all, and the walls and windows were covered in sheets to blot out the sun.

Claude wore a red T−shirt, while Jean wore a blue one. They were both broad–shouldered and dark–haired, and their eyes were a brilliant, off–red color. They both had the same bracelets on their wrists that Burtram did. They sat in the middle of the room with sheets draped over their shoulders. The older one, had a soft, pointless stylus pen in one hand, with which he'd been drawing something on the floor at his brother's feet.

 _"Posmotrite, kto eto (_ **Look who it is)** _,"_ Claude taunted in a ringing voice, causing his brother Jean to look up and raise a dark brow, _"Geroy, Captain America_ **(The hero, Captain America)**."

 _"Vernut'sya snova Asset, u ve_ **(Back again for the Asset, are we)**?" Jean added with a smile, _"Bespolezno. Razve vy ne znayete, chto seychas?_ **(Useless. Don't you know that by now)**?"

"Can it, you two," Fury warned, "Where's Franco?"

Cap recognized _that_ name too.

Vladi Franco was, supposedly, Bucky's main handler, working directly under Alexander Peirce. He was the first one caught in D.C., within hours of the helicarriers' fall. It was rumored that Franco had some distant relation with Professor Zola, and he'd taken the mantel in the late 80's, alongside Alexander Peirce, and had (until April) lead HYDRA with an iron fist. Like Bertram, his family had been involved in HYDRA since its creation.

He was also the one most adamant of the hopelessness of Cap's cause.

 _"_ _Vy nikogda ne naydete yego_ **(You will never find him)** ," He had been the one to say, many times over, as though simply repeating a fact, _"Vy nikogda ne naydete yego, Steve Rogers."_

"I can't believe they brought Franco here, too," He murmured to Natasha as he watched Claude swear at Fury in Russian while his brother impassively looked on, "How did they get him?"

"Fury went himself," Nat muttered back, "Apparently he put up a fight."

Fury retorted to whatever it was Claude had said to him – and it must have been a pretty decent threat, too, because the former, feared HYDRA spy promptly shut his mouth and threw down his pen with a lengthy curse and an exasperated sigh, getting to his feet, dragging his brother up with him.

"Franco," Jean spoke up, suddenly, in English with a heavily accented, baritone voice, causing Fury – along with everyone else – look over at him in surprise, "Is in back garden. He wait for you. Saw you coming, no?"

Claude shot Jean a terrible look and smacked his brother upside the head while Fury nodded shortly to the group, signaling that it was time to leave.

" _Chto yebat',_ Jean?" They heard Claude demand as they left, followed by another slapping noise.

 _What the fuck, Jean?_

"The UN told us that Jean was the one who convinced Claude to stand down after they were caught in D.C.," Nat told Cap as they headed out, "He's probably the _friendliest_ HYDRA agent there ever was."

"You know, until he starts cussing you out in Russian," Barton added with a lopsided, half smile.

Cap cast a look over his shoulder at the brothers. Claude, evidently finished berating his brother, had sat back down on the ground, covering his shoulders with the sheet again. Jean, however, kept standing, watching the small group of visitors leave, his bizarrely colored eyes never leaving Cap's.

"Be careful, Captain America," He warned, making Cap stop just outside the door, with Jean waving his manacled right arm up, "The asset, he is everywhere, nowhere. Without cryo, without us, without his mission, he is nothing. Empty shell. No longer man you knew. _Ponyat'?_ Understand?"

Cap was about to turn around and reply, before Wilson grabbed Cap's shoulders to stop him.

"Man, seriously," He said, "Not even worth it. We have to meet Franco now, remember?"

Cap scowled, but he let Wilson lead him away.

" _Ponyat',_ Captain?" Jean called as the door finally slammed shut again, " _Da?_ Yes?"

 _"Ponyat'?"_

 **N._.s._.S**

 **I'm just going to keep posting these to finish. XD**

 **We're not even close though.**

 **Got some serious action first.**


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